Stormy Weather
by Qweb
Summary: A case vital to Hawaii's economy is interrupted by the worst weather in 30 years. Look for tailing, rescues, banter, food, a little h/c and lots of danger with the brilliant detective, clever lieutenant, undercover superstar and action hero. Now the storm is causing real trouble on Oahu and the Five-0 team has to pitch in to help, without forgetting about their case.
1. Liquid Sunshine

**Stormy Weather**

_The weather in this story and its consequences are based on the true weather during my vacation in Oahu in March. **:( **The weather is real (though the days are switched around to suit the purposes of my story), only the victims, crooks and cops are fictional. This is set between Episodes 2.18 and 2.19. Rated T mostly for swearing. Me swearing in the rain in Hawaii!  
This story is a WIP. But I think I have enough chapters in the can to serve as a cushion. Here's a long one to get started. And I'm trying something different, I replaced my avatar photo with one that relates to this story. This photo of Five-0 HQ only good until Chapter 2 posts. Photos were all taken by me. Hawaii Five-0 belongs to CBS. I'm glad they share._

**Chapter 1 – Liquid Sunshine**

**Saturday**

"Liquid sunshine, my ass," Danny Williams grumbled as he shook rain from his jacket. Careful to keep the drips away from all the high tech Five-0 equipment, he hung the lightweight hooded jacket on the coat rack. The others had mocked the Jerseyan for installing it at headquarters, though Kono Kalakaua later admitted it was handy for beach towels.

The moment he thought of her, the young woman came in, looking as if she'd just fallen off her surfboard. Her black hair was plastered sleekly to her head, just from the short trip from the parking lot to the building.

"Been out surfing this morning, Kono? You look a little damp," Danny drawled, his eyes twinkling.

With a matching twinkle in her eyes, Kono shook her head vigorously, shedding water like a dog. She sprayed the detective who threw his arm up in defense.

"Hey!" he protested.

Kono went to her office where she always kept a beach towel or two. Rubbing her hair dry, she answered Danny's earlier question as if he'd meant it seriously.

"No waves today, brah. This storm has chopped up the surf."

"And yet you went out without a coat or even an umbrella," Danny scolded.

"A little rain won't hurt you," Kono replied.

The rain, which was coming and going in waves, picked up at that moment. It thundered against the window as if demanding admission. Outside palm trees whipped back and forth in the gusting wind.

"A little rain?" Danny asked, with an ironic lifting of his eyebrows.

The two officers went to the window to watch as the wind died down again and the rain eased, but didn't stop.

"They're calling it a 30-year storm," Danny commented gloomily. "It's supposed to last the whole week. At least it's not my weekend to have Grace, considering the weather — and a new case!"

"Poor tourists," Kono said, seeing a bevy of plastic rain ponchos clustered in front of the King Kamehameha statue out front. "Imagine saving up for a trip to Hawaii and getting this. At least it's still warm."

Before Danny could reply, he saw a familiar dark pickup pull into the side lot followed by an equally familiar blue Traverse.

"Gang's all here," Kono commented.

Steve climbed out of his Silverado, wearing no coat, Danny noted with an internal sigh. Steve held a folded newspaper over his head as a rain shield. Danny felt a touch of nostalgia. The second time he'd met Steve had been in one of Hawaii's brief showers. Lieutenant Commander McGarrett had come to his door looking like that, just before he'd commandeered Danny into the best job he'd ever had.

Steve paused to wait as Chin Ho Kelly emerged from his station wagon, carrying a plastic grocery bag in one hand and unfolding an umbrella with the other.

"At least one of you Hawaiians has some sense," Danny said. "But he's wearing flip-flops!"

"Slippers," Kono corrected. "Why not? They're practical in the rain."

As Chin approached Steve, the heavens opened up again. Steve's newspaper folded, converting from a shield to a funnel that poured water down the commander's neck.

Danny and Kono burst out laughing, tried to smother it, then surrendered to merriment. Steve leaped like a drenched cat and flung the paper away (slotting it neatly into a trash can). Chin offered the shelter of his umbrella, but a gust of wind blew it inside out. The two men gave up and ran for the door while two stories above, their friends laughed until their sides ached.

Danny and Kono were waiting, beach towels outstretched, when Steve and Chin entered the Five-0 office.

"You're taking that 'seal' thing too literally, babe," Danny told the Navy SEAL.

Steve ignored the comment but took the towel, scrubbing his hair and the back of his neck furiously. His wet hair stood up in messy spikes. Danny noted with a pang that this "style" emphasized the gray in his friend's hair, gray you shouldn't see in a man in his mid-30s, but Steve had suffered so much pain in his life.

Steve noticed the odd look in his friend's eyes. "What?" he asked warily, prepared for more sarcasm.

"Nothing," Danny said. "Don't you know enough to come in out of the rain?" he added, not wanting to remind Steve of past pain.

"I was ready for the rain, but not the wind," Chin laughed, folding down his abused umbrella. Fortunately, modern umbrellas aren't ruined when they're blown inside out.

He wiped off his feet and his slippers, then pulled dry shoes out of his plastic bag.

"I'm relieved. Flip-flops aren't very good for chasing suspects," Danny said.

"No, but they're practical when it's wet."

Danny shook his head and his three friends realized he was relatively dry. The three kama'aina were ruffled and damp while the haole's hair was smooth and styled as usual.

"How come you're dry?" Steve demanded.

Danny's expression twisted in exasperation. He pointed at his dripping jacket. "Rain Coat," he said, emphasizing each syllable with fully rounded, drawn out vowels. "It keeps the rain off!"

Steve shook his head at the detective's forcefulness, then shivered in the air conditioning. He went to his office to change into a dry shirt. When he came back, Kono was examining Danny's rain jacket, admiring the way the water beaded up and rolled off.

"If the fabric is this waterproof, I bet it doesn't breathe much," she observed. "It must be hot."

Unlike every other place Danny had lived — OK, all in New Jersey — Honolulu didn't cool off when it rained. It remained warm and grew doubly humid.

"It's like wearing a jacket in a sauna," Danny admitted. "But I'd rather sweat than be wet." He nodded at the window where plastic coated figures paraded up and down King Street. "Those rain ponchos look airy, maybe I should get one of them."

"Then you'd look like a tourist," Steve teased. "OK, people, we have a new case," the commander announced unnecessarily. They all knew that, which is why they were in the office on a Saturday; they just didn't know any details. Come down to it, Steve didn't know many details either. Fortunately, Chin had been going over the computer files that the governor's office had forwarded to them.

As he began to call up information on the computer screens, Danny picked up a folder with paper printouts of some of the information. Governor Denning believed in a belts and suspenders approach. He sent the information in digital and paper forms, which Danny appreciated. The old-school detective still preferred hard copies when he could get them. And he could skim through a sheaf of financial documents faster than Chin could flash them on the screen. (Well, Chin could flash them faster, but they'd just be an incomprehensible blur.)

"No blood spattered corpse?" Danny said, thoughtfully chewing on a pen as he thumbed through the printouts. "No ransom demands for kidnapped children? I like this case already."

"What we have," Chin said. "Is a ring of pickpockets preying on tourists on Oahu."

Steve and Kono made identical faces of disappointment.

"That doesn't sound very important," Kono said doubtfully.

"How about a million dollars in one month," Danny said. "Does that sound important?"

"A million…?" Steve said incredulously. "From pickpockets?"

"Picking pockets leads to identity theft these days," Chin pointed out. "And identity theft leads to tourists finding safer places to visit, which disrupts the state's economy and puts tens of thousands of people out of work. Now we're talking about a billion-dollar impact."

"And a very unhappy governor," Steve guessed.

"'Very' would be a very significant understatement, judging by this memo," Danny said, pulling a paper out of his file and handing it to Steve.

The commander winced when he read the governor's sulfurously worded command to fix this. NOW.

"So, what are we talking about," Steve asked Danny and Chin.

"In just about a month, 108 tourists have been taken for around $10,000 apiece. Some more, some less," Danny said, tapping his folder with his pen.

"Ten thousand apiece?" Kono exclaimed, thinking how long it would take her to pay off that debt.

"Ten thousand," Danny confirmed. "Actually, that's been pretty considerate of our thieves. In some cases, victims of identity theft lose everything, become suspected of criminal activities, and spend years trying to straighten out their credit histories. These thieves make a quick score, grab some cash, some merchandise, then move on to the next victim. Some of our victims didn't realize they were ripped off last month until they got their bank statements this month."

"How'd that work?" Steve asked. "Didn't they realize their credit cards were missing?"

"That's the beauty of it," Chin said with reluctant admiration. "The dips didn't take the credit cards; they just borrowed them long enough to scan them."

"The who?" Steve asked.

"The dips, dippers, people who dip into your pockets," Danny explained. "I prefer 'dip.' I like the double meaning of 'pickpocket' and 'idiot'."

Chin continued his explanation, calling up security video. "Here …"

"Is that Pearl Harbor?" the Navy man said in outrage.

"The visitor's center for the Arizona Memorial," Chin confirmed. "Watch the man in the orange jacket.

Steve scowled as they watched the man ushering three small children in a crowd streaming toward the theater for the introductory movie.

"Here." Chin froze the video and they saw a hand slipping a wallet from the tourist's back pocket.

"Who is that?" Steve demanded. Several people were in the crush behind the victim. It was difficult to tell who the hand belonged to.

"This guy with the black baseball cap." Chin pointed out the suspect and the team watched as the man slipped the wallet to a woman in a pink sunhat who put it in her large, gaping purse. From the overhead angle of the surveillance camera, they saw her deftly slip cards out of the wallet and run them through a scanner, all by touch alone while she seemed to study a plaque on the wall. A moment later, she passed the wallet to a third man who jogged after the victim and gave the wallet back. There was no sound, but the suspect's gestures seemed to indicate he'd seen the victim drop it. The victim checked the wallet, found nothing missing and thanked the suspect who waved off the thanks and jogged away as if he needed to catch up to his family.

"Simple. And the victim, August Pettersen, didn't find out he'd been ripped off until two weeks later," Chin said.

"We can't tell much with these overhead views," Steve said with dissatisfaction. "Aren't there any shots that show their faces?"

"Not in this incident," Chin answered. "They're very careful. They know where all the cameras are."

"Then we need to check surveillance from the other cases," Steve decided.

"A hundred and eight cases?" Danny asked in dismay.

"If necessary," Steve said with determination.

Kono was catching up, reading over her cousin's shoulder. "Fortunately, most of the cases are in clusters. There are four more from this day at Pearl."

"That's still a lot of video to go through," Danny complained. "I think I'll try following the money. Wanna help?" he asked Kono.

He and Kono went to Danny's office. They discussed the money trail, then set to work by phone and computer, trying to find the end of the profit rainbow. Who wound up with the money taken from the victims? Steve and Chin set to work watching security videos. After awhile, Chin went to the lunchroom and came back with two bowls of microwaved popcorn, one for him and Steve, because movies need popcorn. And one for Danny and Kono, because his cousin would kill him for making the air smell like popcorn without sharing.

When lunchtime came, rain was pounding down again and the palm trees outside were flailing against the sky. The Five-0 team waited hoping the squall would pass, but finally hunger won out, so the other three volunteered Danny to make a food run.

"Why me?" he protested.

"Because you were the only one smart enough to bring a raincoat," Kono said, biting her lip in a tiny pout and making her eyes big like Danny's daughter when she begged.

Even when he knew he was being played, Danny couldn't resist "the look."

"OK," he agreed.

Kono clapped her hands in triumph. "Good. Now, I'm in the mood for sushi."

Danny was already shaking his head. "No, the one who drives gets to choose," he said firmly. "So unless you want to come along and make the dash from the car to the restaurant..." At that moment, rain hit the window like a wave, washing down the glass in a sheet.

"No, thanks," Kono said hastily.

"Then cold, rainy days put me in the mood for something hot and Italian," Danny finished.

"But, it's not cold, brah," Chin said in amusement.

Danny looked out at the dark gray skies. "But it looks cold out there," the detective said. "And it feels cold in here."

That was true. The air conditioning ran constantly to dehumidify the air for the benefit of the computers, though the Jersey detective liked it just fine.

"OK, but please something halfway healthy," Steve begged while Kono nodded agreement.

Danny waved a negligent hand as he left. He returned damp but triumphant with two bags that smelled of tomato sauce, rosemary, oregano and basil. Steve's mouth began to water despite himself.

"I got sausage subs," Danny announced. He waved a finger to forestall protests from Steve and Kono. "Turkey sausage, tomato sauce, onions and bell peppers. And no cheese for Commander Fat Avoidance."

He brought out long rolls filled with sausage smothered with red sauce and slices of provolone melting on top of three of the sandwiches — plus a big plastic container of antipasto salad with the dressing on the side.

Kono ran for paper plates from the break room and they portioned out their late lunch.

Chin bit down on the sub and rolled his eyes in pleasure. "I didn't think you'd go for turkey sausage," he commented.

"If Armando put this sauce on your flip-flop, excuse me, slipper, I'd eat it," Danny answered with his mouth full.

After lunch, they traded chores, to get "fresh eyes" on the problem, Steve said.

"Because your eyes are tired from watching videos," Danny deduced.

"Roger that," Chin agreed.

"What makes you think reading financial documents is restful?" Kono asked wryly. She was quite happy to swap.

They regrouped in the late afternoon when Danny and Kono finished fast-forwarding through the security footage. At no time did the suspects allow the cameras more than a glimpse of a chin. Kono even played around looking for reflections on the windows of the Hard Rock Cafe, but everything was too distorted.

There were still more financial records to go through, but it looked hopeless, Chin said. All the money trails led to unfriendly, secretive foreign banks where they ended at blank walls.

"This is highly organized," Steve pointed out. "It may start with pickpockets, but it goes way beyond that."

"We know a few things," Chin said. "The thefts are all virtual. Even when it looks like merchandise has been purchased, it's strictly 'on paper' or maybe I should say 'on pixel.' All the goods and funds are being routed by computer."

"Also, the gang targets American and Canadian tourists," Chin continued. "Looking at the videos, we've seen a couple of times they've hit targets that we don't have on our list. They've proven to be locals or foreign tourists. I take that to mean the thieves don't want to deal with foreign banks but they want a victim who will be far away when he discovers he's been robbed."

"That makes sense. That explains why they've never targeted Asian tourists," Steve said. "The odds are Asian tourists are either locals or actually from Japan or Korea."

"What do we do now?" Kono asked.

The four investigators pondered their options. Steve paced the floor. Chin sat back in a chair and considered the ceiling. Kono wandered to the coat rack to check the dryness of her beach towels.

Danny strolled over to the window, attracted by a gleam of sunlight. Clouds were still scudding across the sky, bringing brief gusts of rain spattering down. Off to the east, a dark bank of clouds promised more rain to come; but for now the tourists clustered around the king could push back the hoods of their ponchos.

"So what do we do now, stake out likely tourist spots and wait for the pickpockets to show up?" Kono asked.

"It might work. They haven't repeated any place yet," Chin said. "That narrows down our choices."

"So where haven't they been? They've picked pockets all over Waikiki, up north at the Dole Plantation and PCC and on the windward side at Kualoa Ranch. They're about due to hit Honolulu again. Maybe the zoo?" Steve speculated.

"Maybe right out front by Kamehameha's statue," Danny said.

Steve looked up to counter Danny's mockery, but his partner was looking out the window, every sinew tensed like a dog on the hunt.

"No!" Kono protested in disbelief. "Here? That's just cocky!"

"Get your camera," Danny ordered Kono, as the men rushed the window. "Watch, the woman in the rain scarf," Danny instructed.

The woman with her head covered in blue plastic had her hand in her reusable shopping bag. A moment later, it came out and, moving behind her back, handed off a pink wallet to a man in a navy blue plastic rain poncho. He followed a woman who was headed toward the nearby trolley stop and handed her back her wallet.

Kono snapped pictures as fast as she could, zooming in as tightly as possible on the two suspects.

"Who's the pickpocket?" Steve asked.

"Guy in a black windbreaker, taking pictures of the king. See him? There he goes again!"

A gust of wind blew up and the pickpocket seemed to stagger into a "fellow" tourist. Laughing, he apologized and patted the man's shoulder with one hand while his other hand pocketed a billfold.

"See, he only 'stumbles' into people who don't have those ponchos on," Danny said.

"Hard to pick a pocket through plastic," Chin said.

"From this angle, these photos aren't going to be much better than the security videos," Kono warned, though she kept snapping pictures.

"We need to get closer," Steve said.

"Without making them suspicious," Chin said firmly. "We don't want to catch these small fry. We want them to lead us to their kahuna."

Danny looked down, feeling sorry for the victimized tourists in their plastic rain ponchos.

Ponchos.

The detective spun for the door. "I have an idea!" His eye fell on the coat rack. "In fact, I have two!"

"What?" Steve demanded.

"No time!" Danny answered as he headed for the door. "We don't know how long the Dipping Crew will stay here. Chin, if they leave, see if you can follow one of them."

"Right!"

"Kono, try to catch up to one of the victims, so we can get their credit info," Steve ordered as he followed his partner.

"Got it, boss."

All of them headed for the exit, following Danny who snagged the driest beach towel as he passed.

"Why do you need the towel?" Steve asked, hoping for at least one answer.

"Because I am a brilliant detective," Danny replied, which wasn't the kind of answer Steve was looking for.

Downstairs, Kono and Chin headed for their usual parking lot exit facing Punchbowl, but Danny veered toward the King Street door, the tourist door, and entered the small museum there.

The Judiciary History Center was almost empty. A small group of prelaw students listened to an explanation of martial law in Hawaii during World War II. A solitary, windblown tourist in a blue rain poncho stood grumbling to herself in a corner as she wiped a spattering of rain off her glasses.

Possibly attracted by the grumbling, Danny homed in on her, bringing out his badge and identifying himself as he approached. "Excuse me, miss. Detective Williams, Five-0. I need your help."

Danny expected to have to explain "Five-0," which was relatively unknown outside Hawaii, but the woman's gaze sharpened instantly. "Five-0?" she said. She looked Danny in the face and amazement crossed her features. "Williams? You're the man who stopped that bomb at Disneyland last year!"

Even in her surprise, she spoke quietly out of deference for the museum setting.

"How …?"

"I live near there. It was in all the papers," the Californian said. "I'd never heard of Five-0 before that, so I remembered. What can I do for the man who saved my favorite place on earth?" she added curiously.

Danny swallowed his surprise at this continuing moment of fame. "I need to borrow your poncho," he said.

Sure, she was four inches shorter than he was, but one size fits all, right?

"Borrow the poncho?" Steve asked, before the woman could.

"You said it would make me look like a tourist," Danny answered.

The woman wrestled her way out of the enveloping plastic. Danny shoved the towel into Steve's hands and pulled the plastic over his head. "Now, wipe me down," he ordered. "Shoulders, arms, chest."

Confused, Steve swiped the towel across Danny's plastic-covered chest.

"No, wipe it," Danny said impatiently.

Steve scrubbed at the smooth plastic, then the light dawned and he began to work more enthusiastically.

"You are a brilliant detective!" he said.

"And you doubted me," Danny retorted smugly.

**To Be Continued**


	2. The Brilliant Detective

**Chapter 2 – The Brilliant Detective**

After Steve scrubbed the poncho clear of raindrops and fingerprints, Danny gave him his badge and gun, then looked at the woman tourist who'd loaned him her rain poncho. "May I borrow your camera?"

She shrank back, cradling her digital SLR protectively. "This has my only pictures of Hawaiian sunshine," she protested, then she thought again and pulled a smaller, point-and-shoot digital camera out of her purse. "Is this OK?" she asked.

"Probably better," Danny admitted. "It looks more touristy."

"It's set to take movies, that's why I have both of them," the tourist explained. "Do you need to take pictures or is it strictly for window dressing?"

"Pictures, please," Danny said humbly.

The woman set the camera on automatic and handed it over. Danny took it, then bent to pick up a brochure that had fallen out of the purse when she removed the camera. It was a creased and folded brochure for the Waikiki Trolley that had obviously gotten wet and dried wrinkled. "Can I keep this, too? More window dressing," he explained.

The woman agreed. "But if I miss the last trolley, you'll have to give me a ride to the Hilton Hawaiian Village."

"Deal," Danny agreed.

Steve was having second thoughts about sending Danny out without backup. (That was his forte!) "Maybe I should do this."

Danny scoffed. "You? Tall dark and scary. Who looks more touristy?" he appealed to the genuine tourist. Without hesitation, she pointed at the Jerseyan. "You look more like a sailor on leave," she told McGarrett.

Chortling to himself, Danny left the building, pausing to take a couple photos of the king's statue now lit by bright sunshine, though clouds bunched on the horizon. He sauntered down the sidewalk, looking for his suspects. His phone vibrated.

"Yes, dear?" he answered, seeing Chin's name on the screen.

"They're moving to the trolley stop through the parking lot," Chin reported from behind the wheel of his Traverse. The parking lot was between the king's statue and the trolley stop on Punchbowl Street. You could walk through the parking lot to get from the statue to the other or you could walk on the sidewalk along King Street and turn right on Punchbowl.

The suspects walked right past Chin's Traverse. He leaned back in his seat as if waiting for someone to come out of the building and continued to talk on his phone, even though Danny had hung up.

Danny took the sidewalk, but picked up the pace as if he was worried about missing the next trolley. In fact, one had just left, carrying away the woman victim of the pickpockets.

* * *

But Kono had the male victim in sight. He and his wife had come from The Bus* stop to take pictures of the king, then used the crosswalk in the middle of the block to head for the Iolani Palace historical building across King Street.

Kono plugged earbuds into her smartphone, hung it visibly on her waistband and jogged after the victim like a person out for a little exercise during a lull in the rainstorm. The only odd note was the camera, but she cradled the long lens in the crook of her left arm where the pickpockets couldn't see it.

The couple headed for the Iolani Barracks where tickets were sold for the palace tour. Seeing where they were headed, Kono ran past them, around the banyan tree and into the opposite entrance to the barracks. As the couple left the ticket window, Kono approached them badge in hand. They sat at a nearby table while she explained. The man didn't believe his wallet had been stolen until Kono showed him the photos she'd taken. She had the whole sequence: pick, hand off 1, hand off 2 and then the return.

"But nothing's missing," Mr. Redmund protested.

"But now they have your credit card numbers," Kono pointed out.

"Identity theft!" the wife gasped.

"I'm afraid so, ma'am," Kono said politely. "It would help us catch them, if we had your credit card numbers, too. We can follow the transactions as they happen."

Redmund looked troubled. "But how do I know you are who you say you are?"

"You're right to be cautious," Kono said, though she chafed at the delay in getting back to her team. "Tell you what, the State Capitol is just the other side of the palace. We can find someone there who can confirm my identity."

* * *

Pacing inside the small museum, Steve was making the tourist woman as nervous as he was. "I should be watching his back," he muttered. His phone rang.

"Chin," Steve answered the call.

"Danny wanted me to remind you that I have eyes on him and our three suspects."

Danny did have backup. Steve relaxed. "Right. What's happening?"

"They're all waiting at the trolley stop, pretending to be strangers to each other. I'm guessing they'll head to one of the shopping centers on the route, somewhere indoors where people aren't wearing rain ponchos."

Steve considered. "They haven't hit Ala Moana, yet."

"Or the Ward Center," Chin added. "Those are both on the route. You know, it will be hard to follow a stop-and-go trolley on my own. These guys are super cautious. They might have noticed me in the parking lot already. They'll be on the lookout for a tail."

Steve agreed. "But what can we do? Following them on traffic cams won't help much if they hop off the trolley and dodge into a mall. And there are so many trolleys that all look alike."

When he thought about it, Chin realized Steve had done a lot more pursuing than tailing since he'd become a cop.

"We go old school," the older cop said and explained about leapfrog tailing.

While he talked, Chin kept an eye on Danny.

* * *

The Jerseyan approached the trolley stop where there were a multitude of signs representing a multitude of trolley lines. Danny compared the brochure to the signs and nodded. "This must be the place. Now I hope I haven't missed the last trolley," he said aloud to the other people waiting. Two were speaking Japanese together and possibly didn't understand him. The other three were the Dipping Crew, who seemed to not know each other.

The dip was about 5-10 and burly with blond hair showing beneath a Detroit Tigers baseball cap and friendly gray eyes. Three inches shorter, the woman had dark hair peeking out from beneath a plastic rain scarf. Her raincoat was gray and she carried a reusable Ala Moana shopping bag over her shoulder. Taller and skinnier, the other man wore a dress shirt and suit pants, as if he might work in the building. He had a thin face and an unremarkable nose, thoroughly forgettable. Inwardly Danny rejoiced as he committed their faces to memory, spotting a small scar above an eyebrow and a mole next to an eye that would make identification easier if all he could provide was a description. But he hoped to do so much more. Now if he could just do it without making them suspicious.

"Should be another one in 20 minutes or so," the pickpocket answered affably. It paid pickpockets to be friendly. Enveloped in plastic, Danny didn't make a good target, but friendliness was habit. "This one at 3:30 will be the last one, but if you cross King Street and go past the Iolani Palace, you'll find a stop on Beretania at the State Capitol. That one runs until 5:12 and it's really just a block away across the park."

"Really? Then maybe I'll take the time to visit the museum here," Danny said, broadening his almost lost Jersey accent. "It may be the only time I'll ever get here."

"Here all by yourself?" the other male dip asked. The one who returned the wallets was the one who was most suspicious.

"Heck no, the wife and kids are at the aquarium, but as far as I'm concerned, you've seen one fish, you've seen them all. Which is pretty much their attitude to historic buildings," Danny admitted. "While I have a professional interest."

"You an architect?" the first dip asked.

Danny grinned. "No, a firefighter." Danny's father was a firefighter and he'd heard firefighter talk all his life. It was a cover he was comfortable with and, though he was short, he had the broad, powerful shoulders to make it seem legit. Certainly the two pickpockets didn't question it.

Danny snapped a photo of the historic church across the street, then saw a blessing in the sky. If the goddess of rain was going to grant him such a favor, he wasn't going to turn it down.

"Wow!" he exclaimed. All eyes turned toward him and he began snapping photos. The pickpockets looked alarmed, but then the Japanese tourists were exclaiming, too. The dips looked over their shoulders and saw a bright beautiful rainbow arching like a frame above the Honolulu Hale.

Danny snapped a couple pictures of the scene and showed it to the helpful pickpocket. It had no faces in it, just a lovely rainbow.

"That is nice!" the man said appreciatively (appreciative that his face wasn't in the picture). The three dips also brought out their cameras, maintaining their covers and, well, it really was beautiful.

"Very pretty. My wife will love it," Danny said. "But, you know what that means, more rain is on the way. So I guess I'd better see this museum and that little church while I have the chance. Nice talking to you."

He started back toward the corner and, when a gust of wind came up, used the dip's own trick. He staggered into the two men. They grabbed him by the shoulders, steadying themselves while keeping him on his feet.

"Sorry," Danny apologized. "See, the next storm is coming. Stay dry," he called to his new "friends" and he walked back to the museum entrance where Steve and the woman tourist were waiting.

* * *

"You got their fingerprints?" Steve asked, knowing the answer because Chin had reported to him.

"All over my shoulders," Danny said with glee. "And their photos, too," he added, holding up the camera.

**To Be Continued**

* * *

_***Yes, the Honolulu city transit system is called The Bus**_

_**A/N: To see the rainbow photo that Danny took, see my profile picture. But it might not show up until tomorrow, 5-17.**_


	3. Leapfrog

**Chapter 3 – Leapfrog**

"You got their fingerprints?" Steve asked, knowing the answer because Chin had reported to him.

"All over my shoulders," Danny said with glee. "And their photos, too," he added, holding up the camera. "And I got a really nice rainbow picture for you," he added to the woman.

Reminded of the tourist, Steve invited her upstairs. "We'll get the photos off the camera and then return it," he said. "But I'm afraid we'll need to keep the poncho."

"I have another one," she said. "I bought one at Pearl Harbor, but then they gave me this one at the Polynesian Cultural Center."

"It sure came in handy today," Danny said.

In Five-0 HQ, Danny removed the poncho. Careful to keep his hands on the inside of the plastic, he folded it and deposited it in an evidence bag Steve held for him. Though they could both dust for prints, they preferred to let the crime lab do it with an object as tricky to handle as a billowing plastic poncho.

Then they put the tourist's camera on the smart table. While she watched in amazement, Steve extracted all her photos, separated the ones Danny took, and erased her personal ones from the Five-0 system, all without taking the card out of the camera.

"I like the cat in the suitcase," Danny commented, as one of her photos flashed by.

"I like the rainbow," the Californian replied. "Can I keep one?"

Steve erased the evidence photos from her camera, but left the "cover photos" that showed only the statue, the rainbow and the church.

"And we need your fingerprints," Danny said.

She nodded. She watched cop shows. "For elimination."

"Just put your hands flat on the table here," Steve said and scanned her fingerprints into the system while Danny took her name, address and other particulars for the record.

"Think I can get a ride back to the Hilton?" she asked hesitantly. "I'd hate to ride the trolley with a bunch of criminals."

"And if she's nervous, she might make them suspicious," Danny told Steve as the tourist's advocate.

"I wasn't arguing," Steve said. "You take her, because the dips have seen you."

Danny didn't like leaving Steve without backup, but agreed because the commander was right. "But we'll have to wait until the suspects leave, because my car is in the parking lot right next to the trolley stop."

"I can wait." The Californian figured that the car trip would take less time than the stop-and-go trolley, so she wouldn't lose any time.

Kono came bounding in. "I've got the victim's information. And I bagged the wallet and credit cards for fingerprints. It's a good thing his wife has her own cards," she said, then stopped seeing a stranger.

"She's with me," Danny said. "She helped us get the suspects' photos. And maybe their fingerprints."

"Fingerprints? How?"

"We'll explain later," Steve said impatiently. "Send your info to the computer, then get to your car. We've got a trolley to follow."

Steve ran out. Bewildered, Kono watched him go, then looked around helplessly. Her eyes met the civilian's.

"Don't look at me. I'm just a tourist," the woman said. She pointed at Danny. "He's the brilliant detective."

Kono turned her confused gaze on Danny. Fortunately, Steve had filled him in on Chin's plan while transferring the photos. Danny paid it forward by bringing Kono up-to-date.

Kono nodded. She recognized the leapfrog technique because she'd had the official police academy training that Steve never had. On the other hand, the Navy officer knew a lot more about high tech surveillance using gadgets an ordinary police force couldn't afford.

"No time to get communications gear and we don't know how far apart we'll be, anyway," Kono said thoughtfully. "So let's set up a conference call so Steve, Chin and I can keep in touch," she said.

"Me, too," Danny insisted. "I need to know what you're up to."

The tourist was looking out the window down King Street. "I think that's the Waikiki Trolley coming," she announced. There were other trolley companies, but this looked like the right one. "Yes, I see the red flags."

Danny called Chin, then Steve to warn them. Kono played the smart table like a piano, setting up the conference call. She donned her hands-free headset and made the connection. Danny's phone rang. He answered and heard Steve, Chin and Kono. They were connected.

He gave Kono a thumbs up as she ran out to her little red Cruze.

* * *

As soon as Steve reached his Silverado, Chin drove out of the parking lot, figuring he'd been sitting there too long watching the suspects. He headed to the next stop on the Waikiki Trolley's Red Line.

Kono and Steve waited until the trio of pickpockets boarded the crowded trolley. The chief dip stood facing the rear of the trolley, clinging to a strap. The other man held onto a railing, facing left while the woman squeezed into a seat facing right.

"They're cautious all right," Steve murmured into the phone mic as the trolley moved off.

Kono pulled out behind the trolley. Steve followed a block behind and a lane to the left. Heavy traffic made it unsuspicious that Kono did not pass the trolley right away, but after two blocks the trolley turned right while Kono continued straight ahead.

Steve's tall pickup made it easy for him to stay back and still keep the trolley in sight. He followed it until it pulled into the Ward Warehouse where he passed the tail to the waiting Chin. Chin reported that the suspects maintained their watchful positions on the trolley. He followed them for a block until the trolley stopped at the Ward Centre where Steve was waiting.

While Kono circled the block, Chin went on to the Ala Moana shopping mall, the largest mall on the island.

* * *

"I'll be just another minute," Danny told the tourist. Biting his lower lip in concentration, Danny called up the best photo of the three suspects. He'd caught them just as they'd looked up when he said "Wow!" The faces were clear as a sunny day.

"Here's our three stooges," the detective said, as he sent the photos to the four Five-0 phones. Then he started facial recognition to identify the trio.

Leaving the computer to run, Danny put on a bright flowered shirt and a white pot hat that he thought of as a Gilligan hat. He tucked a pair of oversized sunglasses in his shirt pocket.

"I wouldn't recognize you," the tourist complimented his disguise, as they went to Danny's car.

"Not really my style," Danny answered, gesturing at the gaudy shirt. "I keep it in my disguise box."

That's what Danny called it. Steve called it the Graboit Box, shorthand for Grace Bought It (So Danny Can't Get Rid of It).

"Ooh, a Camaro!" the woman exclaimed in anticipation. "I've never ridden in a Camaro."

Danny couldn't help but preen at the impressed tone of the woman's voice. She was old enough to be his mother, but appreciation always feels good.

The detective made a quick stop at HPD to drop off the items to be fingerprinted, then he turned the Camaro toward the Hilton,

Despite his delays, Danny soon passed his friends playing leapfrog with the trundling trolley. He hopped on the H1, which was jammed heading out of town but pretty clear heading toward Waikiki. He could move faster on the freeway, while the trolley took a roundabout route to stop at three shopping centers.

"OK if I drop you at the Tapa Tower?"

"That would be quicker than driving up to the front lobby," the Californian agreed. At the stop, she hopped out quickly, knowing he wanted to get back to the chase.

"Good luck on your case."

"Thanks. Hope you get better weather for the rest of your visit," Danny said, just as a drizzle began to fall.

The tourist sighed in resignation. "I hope so. I'm a Californian. I don't do rain." The drizzle became a shower. The woman laughed. "But it looks like I'd better learn," she said, and ran for cover.

She went straight to the Tropics Bar and ordered a Five-0 cocktail in honor of her strange adventure.

* * *

In the parking garage of the Ala Moana Shopping Center, Chin pulled into a space in the shadow of a bulky catering truck. He could see the trolley stop, but there was little chance he could be seen. He didn't want to take a chance of attracting the attention of these hyperaware criminals. Five-0 had already burned Danny to get the photos. They couldn't afford to bring Chin to their attention.

The biggest mall on the island, Ala Moana would be a good place for the trio to change transportation, start a new pickpocketing operation or just stop for dinner.

While he waited, Chin took out his iPad to link with the computer back at headquarters. He wanted to check on the progress of the search Danny had set up.

* * *

Danny put in his earbuds and joined the conference call.

"Hey, guys, I'm back," Danny entered the conversation. "I'm at the back door of the Hilton. Want me to stay here?" The next stop after Ala Moana was the Ilikai Hotel, next door to the Hilton, then the trolley would drive past Danny's position.

Steve reported that the trolley left the Ward Centre with the suspects still aboard, but the pickpockets had moved closer to the exit.

"They'll probably get off at Ala Moana," he predicted. "Danny, in about five minutes, start back this way on Ala Moana."

"Roger."

* * *

When he connected with the Five-0 computer, Chin found that facial recognition had matched their suspects to three driver's license photos — three commercial licenses, Chin noted.

"This is interesting," he reported to his team. "Our three friends have commercial driver's licenses, Class C, good for utility trucks and such.

"Our pickpocket is Simon Falzon. The woman is his wife, Darlene Daly Falzon. The other man — I'm guessing he's her brother — is Darren Daly. They all live at the same address." He gave the street number.

"That's a modest, middle class housing tract. Nothing fancy," Kono commented. "We've got a cousin who has a shop just around the corner from there." And on a different note, she added, "I'm pulling into the parking garage at the Ala Moana now. I can see the trolley just pulling in. I can see you, too, cuz." She cruised slowly down the row, looking for a parking space with a good vantage point.

I'm going around the mall. I'll come back on Pi'ikoi," Steve said.

"I'm loafing along in your direction annoying the drivers behind me," Danny reported.

Chin watched the trio get off the trolley and then transform themselves.

Darlene took off her rain scarf and the fringe of dark hair went with it. Her hair was blonde underneath. She took out a couple of pins and shook it out and puffed it up. It was shoulder length and wavy. She folded her raincoat away in her Ala Moana shopping bag, revealing short shorts and a really tight tank top.

Her husband took off his baseball cap, which had a fringe of blond hair around the edge. His head was shaved bald and that change alone gave him an entirely different appearance. He added to it by taking off his jacket to reveal a bright orange tank top beneath. The ball cap was passed to his brother-in-law. Darren turned it inside out and it became a bright red cap with a local high school's logo and no blond fringe visible. His sister handed him a loose football jersey from the same school and he put it on over his short sleeve dress shirt.

And really, Chin thought in admiration, none of this quick change looked out of place. Lots of visitors were putting on or taking off rain gear as they went in and out of the parking garage.

As Chin watched the dips come his way, his iPad pinged. "Here's something else. The driver's licenses are tied to a business license. Our suspects own a food truck together." He snorted so loudly the others all heard him over the phone. "Get this, they sell pita sandwiches. The name of their business is Pick a Pocket."

Steve and Danny groaned at the impudent pun, but Kono gasped. As she'd passed, she had seen that name in faming orange letters on the catering truck next to Chin. She realized his Traverse was too low for him to see the name out his passenger-side window. If the suspects saw him just sitting there, they'd mark him for sure. The trio was bound to notice that this was an Asian man in a blue Traverse, just like the one who sat in the parking lot outside Five-0 headquarters for quite a long time.

"Chin!" she said urgently. "You're parked right next to their truck! They're coming right at you!"

* * *

**_Just a bitty cliffie. To Be Continued_**

**_A/N: This sort of tailing was a staple of the original Jack Lord Hawaii Five-0._**

**_I left up the rainbow picture for another chapter. _**


	4. Pick a Pocket

_A/N The new Avatar photo shows tourists in rain ponchos at the USS Arizona Memorial. (Because it's Memorial Day.)_

**Chapter 4 – Pick a Pocket**

**Still Saturday**

"We can't do anything to make these guys suspicious!" Steve said urgently.

"I'm pulling out," Chin said.

He drove away from the approaching pickpockets, who were now laughing and joking together like any friendly family. They barely glanced at the Chevy's retreating taillights.

"We have no eyes on the suspects," Chin warned, taking a last glance in his rearview mirror before turning left out of sight.

"I'm coming around," Kono said, but first she had to go clear to the end of the row and wait for a grandmother driving an oversized SUV to seesaw her way out of a parking space. Then Kono crawled, verrrry slowly behind ultracautious grandma before she could see past the parking ramp.

The food truck was gone! No wait! The truck emerged from the garage and when the sun caught the bright orange lettering, it seemed to flash like a neon sign.

"They're at the exit on Ala Moana waiting for the light to change," Kono said anxiously.

"And so am I," Danny replied in reassurance. "I'm headed north and it looks like they are turning that way. That's them in the right turn lane, right? 'Pick a Pocket' — un-be-lieve-able!" he said, making the exclamation four separate words.

"I'm coming around on Pi'ikoi," Steve reported. "Ready to pick them up."

"If they turn right, they'll be headed toward home," Chin speculated.

"Home and a hundred other places," Steve pointed out.

"Yes, but it's dinnertime," Danny answered. "And normal, rational people who can set their own hours go home at dinnertime."

"Always thinking with your stomach," Steve quipped.

"Ha ha, you've got the light, Super SEAL, start driving toward their address and we'll see what happens. Nobody suspects you're tailing them when you're in front of them."

The players sorted out as Danny predicted. The food truck turned toward home with Steve leading the way. Danny hung back, finding it easy to follow a tall food truck painted denim blue and trimmed in day-glo orange with a design on the back that showed a hand pulling a well-stuffed pita out of a jeans pocket He wasn't worried about them spotting his Camaro, because his silver car was new to the chase.

Chin and Kono paralleled the procession on streets to the north and to the south, in case the truck made a side trip, but it went straight home.

Danny stayed on the main road when the truck turned into a modest housing tract, following Steve's dark blue Silverado. As Steve cruised down the quiet street, he realized it would be impossible to set up a stakeout here where the only traffic belonged to the residents.

In fact, his unfamiliar truck had already drawn attention. After parking in their driveway, the men got out of the truck, then stood talking on the front lawn, never taking their eyes off the Silverado.

Steve couldn't just turn around and leave, so he parked as far down the street as he could get. Keeping his pickup between him and the watchers, Steve walked up to the nearest front door and rang the bell.

A plump, cheerful Asian woman answered the door.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I'm looking for Joe White?" Steve said politely.

"Nobody by that name lives here," the woman said.

"But isn't this, 13500 Pakele Street?" Steve said, seeming to consult a piece of paper.

"No, dear, this is Pākela Street."

Looking embarrassed, Steve apologized.

"It happens all the time," the woman said kindly. "Let me show you on your map. It's just the other side of Beretania."

It was just as well that Steve had delivered newspapers on Pakele Street when he was a boy. He knew the pickpockets' street had a sound-alike cousin. (But so many Hawaiian names did sound alike, to haoles, anyway.)

Steve returned to his truck and drove away, while the dipping crew watched. After a quick consultation, the woman donned a pair of running shoes and jogged down the street where the Asian woman was taking advantage of the break in the rain to make sure her flowerbeds weren't flooding.

"Hi, Mrs. Hanamoto," Darlene called.

"Hello, dear," the woman replied. "Out for a jog?"

"Got to get my exercise in before the rain starts again," Darlene said ruefully.

Mrs. Hanamoto cast a weather eye at the sky. "Don't go too far," she warned.

"Who was that handsome man I saw you talking to?" Darlene said coyly. "New boyfriend?" she teased.

Mrs. Hanamoto giggled and fanned herself. "Ooh, I wish. No, he was just a lost haole, a soldier on leave, I think, from the way he kept 'ma'am-ing' me. He was looking for Pakele Street."

Darlene rolled her eyes. They got mail for Pakele Street at least once a month. "That's too bad. I was hoping he'd be a regular visitor," she teased.

"Watch out or I'll tell that handsome husband of yours," Mrs. Hanamoto said playfully.

Darlene would have continued the banter — she genuinely liked Mrs. Hanamoto — but a fat raindrop landed on her nose and another on her shoulder.

"Oh, dear, run for it!" Mrs. Hanamoto gathered the skirts of her muumuu and scampered inside. Darlene turned tail and sprinted for home, just beating the deluge. She reported a false alarm to her husband and brother.

Down at the end of the street, a brilliant detective in a silver Camaro lowered a pair of binoculars. It was too far away for a good stakeout position, especially in the driving rain, but it had been close enough for Danny to see Darlene's actions.

"You were right, Steve," he said into his phone. "They checked up on you. If we want to keep an eye on them on their home turf we need a plan, a really good plan."

"We know where they live," Chin said. "They won't run unless we spook them. Why don't we sleep on it and discuss it in the morning?"

"Meet at Zippy's at Ala Moana for dinner?" Danny said hopefully. "I'm starving."

"I'm in," Kono said instantly.

Chin and Steve agreed and four cars converged on the mall.

* * *

"I can't believe you like Zip Pacs." Steve looked at Danny's plate in abhorrence. Though he occasionally offered to buy Danny Zip Pacs when his pal was down, Steve would never eat one. The meal included one piece each of teriyaki beef, fried fish, fried chicken and fried Spam. "You'll eat anything if it's fried."

Danny chewed thoughtfully, considering the point. "Not pineapple," he decided. Knowing it would gross Steve out, he added, "I had deep fried Snickers bars at Atlantic City and I tried deep fried butter once, but it was a mess. Dripped all over everything."

Steve looked nauseated and had to stop eating his healthful meal of Chinatown steamed opakapaka.

"I can't believe you call yourself a Hawaiian and you don't like Spam," Chin told Steve. Chin had happily ordered a side of Spam to go with his Korean fried chicken.

Steve had eaten Spam as a kid, but after subsisting on mystery meat all over the world, the Navy SEAL had lost his taste for the Hawaiian staple.

Kono swallowed an overgenerous mouthful of Zippy's chili nachos, but the guys would never know whom she was going to bash or defend, because her phone rang and she answered it instead.

"Hey, Charlie, howzit?" she greeted the crime lab technician. She looked around the restaurant, but they were alone in a corner, out of earshot of any of the other customers. "Hang on, I'll put you on speaker. The whole team's here."

"But we're in public," Steve warned. "And this isn't a secure line."

"So no national secrets," Danny said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Steve's excess caution.

"I rushed through the prints on the stuff Danny brought me," Charlie Fong said. "I couldn't get anything but smudges off the cards, sorry; but got a couple of good handprints off the poncho. Full handprints, five fingers almost perfect."

Steve and Danny high-fived each other. "That's two points for the brilliant detective; no points for the promising rookie," Danny chortled, making a sad face for Kono's benefit. She made a rude face back.

Charlie Fong continued, "I ran them through AFIS. No hits in Hawaii of a criminal nature, but they have a business license."

Steve nodded. "We got that much from their photos," he said. Not wanting Fong to feel like his efforts had been wasted, Steve added, "But it's always good to have confirmation."

"I have something a little better than that," Charlie said. "When I expanded the search, we got a hit right away from Chino."

Chin nodded, then explained to the others, "A California state prison."

"I won't tell you everything over an unsecured line," Charlie said, his voice a studied deadpan, making Danny palm his face. "But I routed the information to your server."

"Thanks, Charlie. I've said it before, you're a Geek God," the promising rookie said.

"I'd love to know how you got these palm prints," Charlie said.

"That's a story for another time," Danny said. "Preferably with a beer in one hand and a steak on the grill."

"I'll hold you to that," Charlie answered, and hung up.

Kono realized the three men were grinning at her. "What?"

"I notice Charlie called you with the results, even though Danny dropped the evidence off," Steve said.

"He's got my number on his phone," Kono said with a shrug, then realized that made the guys grin even wider. She rolled her eyes at them and refused to dignify their innuendos with any further argument.

"Back to the office?" Danny sighed. It had been a long day already, but Steve had boundless energy when the hunt was on.

"Back to the office," the commander agreed.

They finished eating and Danny collected a bag of cinnamon sugar malasadas from Napoleon's Hot & Fresh counter. The bakery was perfectly named. The fried dough balls were hot, fluffy and tasty even at dinnertime.

"You just ate!" Steve protested.

"That was dinner. This is dessert. Normal people eat dessert after dinner," Danny retorted.

"What'd you get, two dozen?" Steve said, looking at the size of the bag in disbelief.

"Knowing you, there won't be time for breakfast," Danny shot back.

"He's got you there, boss," Kono said, happily taking a malasada for her dessert. Chin also took one when it was offered.

Back at the office, the others took a second round of malasadas before starting to work. Steve looked longingly at the bag, sorry he'd made a production about them. His meal had left a fishy taste in his mouth and a little cinnamon sugar would take that away. But he wouldn't ask. Not now.

Fortunately for him, the brilliant detective knew all his partner's faces. He pushed the bag at Steve. "Have one, already. You're making us feel guilty."

"Can't have that. Thank you." Face saved, Steve took a malasada. (And he enjoyed it, too, though torture wouldn't have gotten him to admit it.)

Chin washed his hands, and insisted everyone else do the same, before he called up Charlie Fong's findings on the smart table.

The lieutenant entered lecture mode. "Our male suspects apparently met in the California Institution for Men, known as Chino for the city where it's located. Known as Chino Men's by the city's residents who don't want people to think there's nothing in Chino but the prison. I collected a prisoner there once when I was with HPD.

"They were serving short sentences — Simon for pickpocketing and Darren for snatch and grab. It was a first offense for both of them and, being nonviolent offenders, they were assigned as roommates. They each served about a year and, being model prisoners, were let out on parole because of prison overcrowding.

"They finished the terms of their parole also as model citizens, though apparently they kept in touch with each other…"

"… which is a no-no," Danny muttered.

"… because one month after Darren's parole was up, Simon married Darren's sister Darlene," Chin finished.

"And they moved to Hawaii?" Kono asked.

"They moved here to make a new start," Chin agreed. "They bought a small house together and the food truck. Darlene had been a sous chef at a small restaurant. Both men had worked in the prison kitchen and worked at food service jobs while on parole."

"And...?" Steve asked, when Chin stopped.

"And for anything more, we need to get a warrant for their financial records," Chin said.

"And no judge is going to grant one if we interrupt him at home on Saturday night. We're not talking international terrorists here, just pickpockets," Danny said.

"But the governor really wants us to move on this," Steve said. And once he had a quarry in view, Steve wanted to keep moving, like a hound hot on the scent.

"Then the governor can find us a judge who'll issue a warrant on Sunday morning for bank records and phone records," Chin said. "And a bank manager who'll grant access. I could, uh, get into the system without help, but ..."

"But authorized access looks so much neater in court records," Danny finished for him. "So now it's up to you, Super SEAL. Show the governor how quickly we moved on his, um, 'request'; but now we need his help."


	5. Impressing the Boss

_A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. Chapter 4 was a Memorial Day special. Here's the regular weekly chapter. If I ever get the whole thing done, maybe I can go to twice a week updating. Problem is, the story keeps stretching!_

**Chapter 5 – Impressing the Boss**

**Saturday (What a long day!)**

Steve checked his watch and realized the governor was probably still in his office. Denning rarely went home before seven.

"So meet back here tomorrow morning?" Kono said brightly.

"Right, tomorrow," Steve agreed distractedly as he punched the contact button.

Kono made her escape while she could, grabbing a couple of malasadas to save for breakfast. Danny was just as fast out the door, grabbing the bag as he went. He left a few of the pastries for Chin to take home to Malia, then scooted out the door before Steve could find another job to do. There was still time to call his daughter before she went to bed. Chin powered down the computer and took his malasada peace offering home to his neglected bride.

Steve lounged back in the chair at his desk. He hoped Denning wouldn't ask for details. He didn't relish telling the governor that the pickpockets had been operating right outside Five-0 headquarters.

"Commander," the governor answered the call. "Have you made any progress?" Denning didn't really sound like he expected any, because it was only one day and a Saturday at that.

Steve grinned, happy to amaze and confound. "As a matter of fact, we have, sir," he said, trying to keep his voice matter of fact. "We've identified a trio of suspects and located their home and their place of business. But to go further, we need to get into their bank and phone records."

"So you need a warrant." Denning wasn't slow-witted. "I think I sense Detective Williams and Lieutenant Kelly behind this."

"They have taken the lead on this investigation," Steve said, willfully misunderstanding the governor's implication that Steve had a relaxed attitude toward warrants. "Detective Williams used a brilliant stratagem to get fingerprints and photos of the suspects. And Charlie Fong at HPD processed the fingerprints in record time to help us ID the suspects. Everyone fully understands the seriousness of this situation, sir. But to continue, we need your help. We need that warrant. We have probable cause, but tomorrow is Sunday."

"Ah." Denning thought for a moment. "Judge Fujita owes me a favor and he'll understand the importance of this. I'll call him right now and have him call you. But you'd better have probable cause," Denning warned. "He doesn't owe me that big a favor."

Steve regarded the mugshots and fingerprint evidence displayed on his computer screen.

"Yes sir. We definitely have probable cause."

"Do you know what bank you'll want to check?"

The business license for the food truck made that clear. The governor, of course, knew someone on the board of directors. Denning said he'd warn his friend to expect a call.

When he called, Judge Fujita did ask for details and Steve obliged with the full story of Danny's ploy. The judge appreciated the tale. "Right outside Five-0? That's ballsy," Fujita commented.

"I was thinking the same thing," Steve admitted. "But now we know they're from California. They might not know this is Five-0 headquarters. They might never have heard of Five-0, for all that. They just knew the tourists like to photograph King Kamehameha."

"All right, commander. I'll send someone to the courthouse first thing in the morning to process the paperwork. You'll have the warrant by 9 a.m."

That wasn't what the Navy SEAL called "first thing in the morning" but Danny would like it and it would give Steve a chance to get in a run and a swim before starting his workday. He texted his team: "9:00" and went home.

* * *

**Sunday**

After going through the bank records with Danny, Chin ran through what they'd found for Steve, who had been reviewing the California prison records, and Kono, who had been studying the phone records.

"They moved to Hawaii and bought a modest house, the three of them together. It was in foreclosure, so they got a good deal. They bought the food truck outright," Chin said.

"And then their finances get a little squirrelly," Danny said. "The food truck looked like a good investment at first. Judging by the numbers, they quickly developed a following and started showing a respectable profit. Then they had a run of bad luck. A small fire in the truck required replacing the propane-powered grill and the deep fryer. Insurance only paid part of it and so they were back in the red. Then someone broke into the truck and vandalized it, requiring more money. They borrowed against their house and looked like they were sliding toward bankruptcy and then..."

"Things got better," Chin said dryly. "A small infusion of cash from somewhere paid off that second mortgage and put them back on an even keel."

"So that's when they started picking pockets again," Steve said.

Danny agreed with reservations. "I'd say so, but..." He and Chin exchanged a dubious look.

"What?" Steve and Kono demanded together.

"There's nothing in their financials that indicates this big, million-dollar score," Danny said.

"If they're smart enough to hide it, Chin's smart enough to find it," Kono said with assurance.

"Thank you, cuz. The thing is, I'm not sure there's anything to find. See, here are their bank records."

He pointed out where the money troubles started to go away with a $6,000 deposit to the Pick a Pocket account. "This is not from the insurance company. It's not a transfer from any of their personal accounts. It comes out of left field and I haven't been able to trace it. Someone very, very good with computers routed this money to their account."

"And there's nothing in any of their backgrounds that indicates any expertise with computers," Steve said.

Kono nodded. "But we know that someone in this identity theft ring is good with computers because that's how the money's being stolen."

"Correct," Danny said. "Now look at this. See if you find it as interesting as Chin and I did. The truck seems to go out most evenings and three full days a week, Sunday, Tuesday and Friday. Before their streak of bad luck, the truck made a profit of about $2,000 a day on those full days. That's what they were banking, leaving out the come-and-go to cover food and other supplies. After the $6,000 pay-in, records for the food truck show it making about $2,900 profit those days, an extra $900 three times a week."

Danny cocked his head at Kono. "They're drawing a salary!" she exclaimed.

"That's what it looks like to us, too," Chin said. "They're not the masterminds behind this scheme; they're just employees."

"I wonder if they're willing employees," Steve said thoughtfully. "Those accidents…"

Danny nodded. "Maybe not accidents," he agreed.

"It's a good thing we didn't just arrest the pickpockets, then. The boss would just find more dips," Kono said.

"So we need to watch them to see when they make contact with their employer, because they have to pass the information on," Steve said.

"I didn't find anything strange in their phone records," Kono reported. "Calls to each other, their suppliers, the dentist, the local pizza place — the usual. There's nothing that indicates they're passing on the info that way."

"They get paid at the food truck. I'd guess they pass the info at the food truck," Danny said. "So, obviously, we need to watch the food truck."

"Obviously," Chin agreed.

"Mmmm, who gets that assignment," Kono said hopefully.

"Someone they haven't seen," Danny said ruefully, because watching a food truck was just up his alley.

The men all looked at Kono, who pretended to pout about the tasty assignment. "Sure, send the girl undercover again."

"Not the girl," Danny corrected. "The rookie."

"It's been almost two years since I graduated, Danny. I'm not a rookie any more."

"You'll always be our rookie," Chin joked.

"But maybe we do need another nickname," Danny said judiciously. "Our promising rookie has lived up to her promise. She's our undercover superstar."

"I like that. So what's the plan?" Kono asked.

Steve considered their suspects. "Before we decide, I'd like to know more about our suspects. Who can we talk to?'

Danny suddenly laughed. "I think it's time for lunch."

The others looked at him as if he'd grown three mouths. "It's only 11," Steve protested.

"No? Not hungry?" Danny teased. "I'm in a mood for garlic shrimp. What about you, Chin? Spicy shrimp bowl?"

That made it plain. The other three faces brightened with understanding, then Steve frowned.

"I want you to stop it, right now," he mock ordered. "No more showing up the boss!"

"He can't help it. He's the brilliant detective — this week," Chin said with a twinkle in his eye.

Kono hung her arm around Steve's neck. "Don't worry, boss. You'll always be our action hero."

"What? All brawn and no brains?" he asked with an exaggerated pout.

Danny made a scornful noise. "When have you ever seen an action hero who couldn't outsmart, outwit and outfight all the bad guys and the U.S. Government, too?"

"Smart and strong and ruggedly handsome, too," Chin added. Really, the quiet Hawaiian can be a devil when he wants.

"When you put it like that, I can't disagree. Though I'd rather hear it from someone more feminine … OK, let's go talk to Kamekona and see what he knows about his competition," Steve surrendered.

* * *

Nothing. That's what Kamekona said he knew, then he proceeded to detail the nothing at great length to his three friends. Chin stayed at Five-0 HQ to work on a secret project.

"They're from the mainland, California, I think. A husband and wife and the wife's brother. They've been here about five-six months. They don't serve shrimp or shave ice, so I'm down with that," the big man said, ticking off points on his fingers.

"What do they serve?" Danny asked, unable to help himself.

"Slow-cooked meat — pork, beef, lamb on Sundays. They'll make the pocket up anyway you want it. They seem like nice enough haoles," Kamekona said, looking quizzically at his Five-0 friends. "They in some kind of trouble?"

"Maybe," Steve said vaguely. "They've come up on the edge of something."

"I never heard anything bad about them." Kamekona looked worried that he might have missed something. "They give food to the soup kitchen. Everyone seems to like them. I was thinking about teaming up with them sometime. Two trucks attract more people."

"Maybe you'd better not," Kono advised. "Until we finish checking them out."

Kamekona agreed and watched his friends walk away. He realized he hadn't told them the odd thing he had heard, but how could several missing hired thugs have anything to do with three haoles and a food truck? A customer distracted Kamekona and he went back to work.

"If Kamekona hasn't heard anything, the operation must be new," Steve said.

"One month," Kono mused. "One month to cause so much trouble. No, two months because it took everyone a month to get wise to the ring."

"Make it three months, if we go back to when the dippers' financial troubles started," Danny said.

"We've got a new player in town," Steve said thoughtfully. He remembered the sophisticated financial manipulation via computer. "A new 'criminal mastermind'," he said, scoffing at the thought.

"That's a relief," Danny said brightly.

His partner gave him "A Look."

Danny shrugged. "Criminal masterminds never have any luck against an action hero."

* * *

Back at the office, Chin showed what he'd been putting together on the official Five-0 computer. It was a flier advertising Cousin Suki's nail salon.

"Are you sure that's an authorized use of police equipment, babe?" Danny asked, tongue-in-cheek.

"You're not the only brilliant detective," Chin retorted amiably.

"No, Danny has dibs on that nickname this week," Kono said. "You can be the … ingenious lieutenant," she offered.

Chin considered it solemnly. "I think 'clever lieutenant' sounds better."

"Whatever you want, babe. It's your cognomen," Danny said.

"'Cognomen'? I'm going to take that word-a-day calendar away from you," Steve threatened.

"You don't like cognomen? How about pseudonym? Nickname?"

"Alias," Kono contributed.

Danny pointed at her. "Yes! A good cop word. Chin Ho Kelly aka The Clever Lieutenant."

Steve rolled his eyes, deliberately turned his back on the chortling wordsmiths and scratched his head, as he regarded the clever lieutenant's project. "How will this flier help us keep eyes on the food truck?"

"Watch and learn, lady and gentlemen. Watch and learn."

**Oops, gotta wait another week for The Kelly Plan.  
Photo is still the same as last chapter, poncho-wearing tourists at the Arizona Memorial.**


	6. The Undercover Superstar

_A/N: So apparently I was ahead of the curve when it comes to attaching photos to stories! I shall attempt to put a photo of the Hilton in the rain as a cover on this story. My profile pic for the moment is still tourists in rain ponchos on the Arizona.  
Warning: Reading this chapter may make you hungry._

**Chapter 6 – The Undercover Superstar**

**Sunday**

The young woman wore a hooded, University of Hawaii sweatshirt as protection against the persistent drizzle while she went from door to door depositing fliers printed on paper as pink as nail polish.

The wire from her earbuds disappeared beneath her sweatshirt, keeping her iPhone dry. Warm rain glistened on her bare legs and trickled into her running shoes. Shoelaces flopping in the puddles on the sidewalk, Kono stopped on a sheltered porch across the street from the suspect house. She sat on the stoop and tied her shoes, then sat back for a moment, stretching her neck and working out the kinks.

Hidden by her bag of fliers, her hand positioned a fake rock in the flowerbed next to the porch.

"Turn it a little to the left," instructed her cousin's voice in her ear.

Without looking at the miniature surveillance camera, she twisted it just a tad.

"Perfect," the distant voice said.

Kono stretched, bounded to her feet and continued delivering fliers to the end of the street. She crossed to the suspects' side and started back. While she walked, humming along to imaginary music, Simon and Darren came out of the house and regarded the food truck in their driveway. It was spotted and streaked with mud from rain that hadn't been hard enough to wash off the dirt. Shaking their heads, they got long-handled mops from the garage and began wiping down the outside of the truck.

While they worked, the men diligently checked every inch of the boxy vehicle for damage.

"So much for attaching a bug," Danny's voice commented in Kono's ear.

Seated in the passenger side of the Camaro, Danny was watching the camera feed on a laptop. Now that Steve and his Silverado had been compromised, the commander was back behind the wheel of Danny's car, to the detective's resigned displeasure.

Chin was in his Traverse three blocks away on the opposite side of the suspects' home. Watching the feed on his iPad, he had to agree the pickpockets were just too cautious.

"It's up to you, cuz," he told Kono.

"Undercover superstar," Danny added.

Kono didn't try to fight down her smile. She turned it into a greeting for the two suspects who had turned to watch her approach.

"Going to be hard to dry it off, brah," she called.

Simon chuckled. "The rain hasn't been hard enough to clean it off. At least we can get some of the mud off."

Kono studied the denim blue truck with a design on the back that showed a hand pulling a well-filled pita out of a blue jeans pocket. "'Pick a Pocket,'" Kono read off the side of the truck. "What do you sell?"

"Pita pocket sandwiches," Simon replied. "Kalua pork with cabbage, barbecue pork, beef brisket with salsa, grilled mushrooms and peppers."

"Don't forget the sweet potato fries and the desserts," Darren said. "Deep fried PB&J pockets with homemade peanut butter and boysenberry jam."

In her ear, Kono heard Danny moan in ecstasy. "You're making me hungry," Kono laughed, not joking at all. "Where are you going next? I'll have to try you out."

Simon told her their schedule for the rest of the week. "We should be working now. We're usually out all day Sunday. But the park basketball tournament was cancelled — it's an outdoor tournament. But we'll be at the VFW at 5."

"Great, I'll be off work then."

"What are you delivering?" Darren asked.

Kono handed over one of her bright pink fliers.

"My sister might be interested in this," he said.

"In what?" Darlene asked, as she came out of the house to clean the food truck kitchen. "Oh, I've seen them. They're in that little strip mall two blocks down. Are they any good? My nails need a lot of work," she said ruefully, regarding fingernails chipped and stained from kitchen work.

Kono shrugged. "I can't really say. They just pay me to deliver these. Speaking of which, I'd better get back to work. See you at 5." She waved as she jogged off, hurrying as if to make up the time she'd spent in conversation. She diligently finished delivering fliers down the street and onto the next street, until Chin reported that the suspects were busy with their truck and not checking on her.

Big drops began to fall and the wind began to pick up. Kono abandoned her route. She slipped into the passenger seat of Chin's car just before the heavens opened up.

On the screen of the iPad, the Five-0 officers saw Simon and Darren finishing their scrub down when the storm cell reached them. The dips ran into the shelter of their garage and looked back as the storm rinsed their food truck cleaner than a car wash. Darren threw his hands up in exasperation.

* * *

True to her word, Kono was waiting at the VFW when the food truck arrived. She waited in a growing line under the awning while the dippers set up a menu board, fired up their grill and, finally, flipped open the window.

"What's on the menu today?" she asked, craning her neck to see around the young man in front of her.

Dressed in board shorts and slippers, with a light sweatshirt over a yellow tank top, the young islander rattled off the menu without looking. "Pulled pork, beef brisket and, because it's Sunday, braised lamb." He looked back at the inquirer and liked what he saw. "See you can pick your pocket," he explained. "Choose a meat, vegetables and any sauce combination you want. You can get a grilled veggie pocket if you want, that's less. If you want extra meat or cheese, that's more."

Kono studied the menu. There were five sauces, five cheeses and a dozen vegetables, some raw and some grilled, on the list. Sides included cole slaw, potato salad and sweet potato fries.

"And dessert pockets?" she asked.

"They're like fried ravioli with different fillings."

"I don't know what to choose," Kono admitted. "What are you getting?"

"The Sunday special," the Hawaiian answered. "The Greek pocket with lamb, tzatziki sauce (it's a dill yogurt sauce), cucumber, tomato and onion."

"You're making my mouth water," Kono laughed.

"Mine, too," she heard Danny's voice in her ear. While Steve and Chin tracked down leads back at the office, Danny was Kono's backup on this fact-finding mission. Kono's baseball cap contained a miniature camera and a directional microphone. Danny could see and hear anything she could.

They came to the front of the line. Simon greeted Kimo by name. "Getting the usual?"

"Yes, thanks, Simon. The Greek lamb, please."

"See, I told you I'd find you," Kono said brightly when it was her turn.

"So you did," Simon said cheerfully. "What can we get you?"

Kono ordered the Sunday special and when Simon asked her name answered with the name of one of her cousins, "Kaleopakala." Simon looked as if his eyes wanted to cross contemplating that mouthful. "Just call me, Kay," Kono said with a smile, just as her cousin always did.

"Thank you, Kay," Simon said fervently, handing her a receipt.

Kono's line companion was working out the name. "What is that, Cleopatra?"

"Translated from Greek into English into Hawaiian," Kono agreed. "My parents teach history."

The young man introduced himself as Kimo. (Which Kono already knew because she'd heard Simon say it.)

"So I take it you're a follower of Pick a Pocket," the detective said.

"Big fan," he agreed. He told her that he worked for the family's surf shack, renting surfboards and surf toys and giving surfing lessons to tourists. He could arrange his schedule to follow the food truck.

"Especially on a day like this," he said, nodding at the rain falling in a steady sheet.

With the fervor of a fan, he told Kono all about the Sunday, Tuesday and Friday specials.

"No Saturday? I'd think that would be a good day to sell."

"It's against their religion," Kimo said. "They're Seventh Day Adventists."

Kono heard Danny snort in her ear. "They got married in a Methodist church. It's got nothing to do with the Sabbath. Saturday may be good for selling, but it's also good for picking pockets."

Kono watched as she waited for her order and then while she ate. Simon took orders, greeting regulars by name and making a game of guessing what they wanted. Though the receipts carried order numbers, Simon called everyone by name, yet she couldn't see that he'd written them down anywhere. Behind him, Kono could see his brother-in-law manning the grill and fryer while Darlene assembled the pockets and dished up the sides.

People came and went. Some took their orders to go, dashing to their cars through the downpour. Others like Kono and Kimo huddled on benches out of the rain, eating while the food was hot.

A silver Mercedes pulled up in the small lot and a tall man in a business suit dashed up to the truck. Kimo nudged Kono. "He's another fanatic like me," the young man joked. "He comes every time."

"Yes sir, what will you have?" Simon asked, his joviality suddenly sounding forced.

The man made a point of studying the menu, then ordered brisket "Mexican style" to go, which wasn't specifically on the menu.

"Hot sauce, tomatoes, onions, lettuce and jalepenos," Kimo said knowledgeably. "On Thursdays they make a salsa with all that for the special, but you can get it anytime."

"May I have your name?" Simon asked.

"Bill." He handed several folded bills to Simon.

"Here's your receipt," Simon said, handing over a streamer of paper.

Danny's voice said, "Funny he asked for this guy's name when he seems to know everyone else who's a regular." Kono flicked her finger in front of the camera to indicate she was thinking the same thing.

They watched intently when Bill got his food, thinking this might be the transfer; but the man opened it to add condiments to his pita, showing there was nothing inside but food. And then he took a couple of big bites before taking the rest to his car, indicating there was nothing hidden in the pocket sandwich, either.

Though disappointed, Kono made sure she and Danny got a good look at the Mercedes license plate when the man left with his order.

Simon seemed to cheer up again after he left. During a lull in customers, he asked Kimo if he was "coming tomorrow."

"Won't be anyone surfing. I'll see you there," Kimo agreed. He told Kono they were going to serve food at the local soup kitchen. "Want to come?" he asked hopefully.

Kono laughed. "Maybe I will. It probably won't be a good day to deliver fliers!" Kimo had finished his food and went to his pickup. Kono realized she should go, too.

But she got an order of dessert pockets to go.

"Meet you back at the office, Danny," she said in the privacy of her car. "Better hurry if you want some."

* * *

"Get that away from my smart table," Chin ordered, when his friends dropped off the video recorded on Danny's laptop.

Danny and Kono took the bag of greasy, sticky treats into the break room. Danny admired the crispy, silver-dollar-sized dessert pockets.

He bit into the peanut butter and boysenberry jelly treat and closed his eyes in bliss. "You are my all time favorite rookie, Kalakaua. All time."

Kono gave a little curtsey in thanks, but warned, "Just don't expect me to make the coffee, brah."

"Of course not," Danny agreed. "That's what Chin's for."

"I heard that," said a voice from the main room.

Danny and Kono shared a grin like little kids then, contrary to her words, Kono started a new pot of coffee because, really, the guys were hopeless!

Danny licked every trace off his fingers before rinsing them clean at the sink. "I will be sorry to arrest these guys," he said. "I like their food."

"I like them," Kono said, a little sadly. "They're funny and they help the needy."

"But they steal," Danny reminded her. "And they hurt people because imagine what you'd have to go through if $10,000 disappeared from your bank account."

"Yet I still like them," she admitted.

"Pickpockets and con artists. Being likeable is part of the job description. And, well, they could be worse. There's nothing that says they're cruel or violent."

"There's nothing that says they're running a million-dollar scam, either," Chin said, coming into the break room with Steve. "There's nothing that says they have any more experience with computers than the average Tweeter."

"We're certain they're tools in this scheme," Steve said. "Someone else is making the profit."

"Maybe the guy with the Merc," Danny suggested.

Steve snorted. "That guy is no criminal mastermind. Despite the nice suit and the fancy car, he's muscle for hire, pure and simple."

"Bill 'Butch' Pierson," Chin said, savoring a peanut butter pocket. "I didn't even need facial rec. I arrested him twice for assault when I was with HPD, but the charges didn't stick. People were afraid to testify against him."

Steve manfully tried to resist the scent of warm peanut butter wafting around him. "We checked. Pierson has dropped out of sight. His parole officer has been trying to track him down, but no luck. No sign of him in any of his regular haunts."

"And…" Chin said dramatically. "The same is true of several other thugs. Seven, eight others, maybe more. Biggs said he'd check with his fellow parole officers and get us a list."

"Someone's holding a bargain basement sale for muscle for hire?" Danny asked, sucking jam off his thumb.

"Looks like," Chin agreed.

Kono caught Steve sneaking a look at the bag of treats and shoved it in his direction. "C'mon, boss. They're almost good for you. Lots of protein and no cholesterol."

"When you put it that way." The taste of peanut butter and jelly brought back memories of Steve's childhood, always a bittersweet sensation, but in this case, mostly sweet. He licked his fingers and his friends smiled to see his childlike happiness. They didn't see enough of it.

"What?" he asked suspiciously.

"Nothing," his friends chorused.

Steve frowned at them, then decided to let it go. "I think I saw something on the recording. Where are your receipts from the food truck?" he asked Kono.

She pulled them from her pocket. "I was saving them for my expense account. Why?"

She handed over the cash register slips, small pieces of paper about two-inches square.

"That's what I thought." Steve nodded and set the receipts on the break room table next to Chin's iPad showing a still of Butch aka taking his receipt, which looked to be about two feet long.

"Wait. Why's his so much longer than mine?"

"That's it!" Danny crowed, pointing at the small section of the receipt where the printed side showed. "Those are the numbers. That's the transfer! Not the food box, just the receipt!"

"Ah!" Kono ran the recording back to "Bill's" payment. "There, it looks like several folded ones, but there could be hundreds under that single. That's the payoff. So, can we trace his license plate?"

"That's an interesting question," Chin said. "The license number for the Mercedes doesn't exist."

"What do you mean, doesn't exist?" Danny asked.

"I mean it's been erased from the DMV computer. It's in a sequence that's been issued. It should exist, but it doesn't. There's no record of it."

"That is some serious computer skills," Kono said thoughtfully, claiming the last dessert pocket.

Chin glanced at the clock. "I'd better go."

"You sure you want the late shift?" Steve asked. "I could share the watch."

"I'm not planning to stay up and watch late night video of their house while they sleep," Chin said. "Duke's loaning me a couple of officers who'll share the watch. I just need to be there in case something happens."

"I doubt it will. We haven't spooked them," Danny said. "We've spotted their contact. We just need to catch them in the act picking pockets tomorrow morning."

Knowing the food truck schedule, Danny had gone back over the records and the video to confirm that the pickpockets did their dipping on Saturdays and in the morning on Monday, Wednesday and Thursday — all the times the food truck wasn't out.

"See you tomorrow," Chin said.

"Sleep tight. Don't let the bedbugs bite," Danny called after him.

**To Be Continued**


	7. Arrested Arrest

**Section 7 – Arrested Arrest**

**Monday**

The nail salon belonging to Chin and Kono's cousin was within the five-block range of the miniature camera planted across the street from the pickpocket suspects. Chin set up in the storage room in back, amid the smells of polish remover nail glue, surrounded by boxes of brightly colored bottles.

Cousin Suki had only two employees, who were also related to the clan and had too many cops in the family to ever speak about the small encampment in the back room. With cousins to fetch food from eateries in the shopping center, Chin figured he'd never had such a cushy stakeout spot.

Chin's borrowed HPD officers watched the feed at night, while he slept on a nearby cot. He didn't expect anything to happen overnight and the pickpockets lived up to his non-expectations.

In the morning, Cousin Suki brought loco moco for Chin and the two officers. After their hearty breakfast, Chin sent the young men home with thanks and took up surveillance on his own.

Just a phone call away, Danny and Kono were in the office early.

Danny was completing the paperwork necessary to track the accounts of the known victims and other documentation vital to continuing the case.

Kono was running a program to find gaps in license plate sequences, to see if the mathematical mastermind had deleted any other vehicles from the public record. Of course, the farther you go back, the more gaps you find, as cars are scrapped because of accidents and age. But the Mercedes had been the current model year, so Kono focused her search on the last two years.

Soon she had a list of missing numbers, then she had to check them out. Most were eliminated as belonging to cars that had been totaled in crashes or cars whose owners had switched to personalized plates. But she found five additional numbers that had just plain disappeared.

She called Sgt. Duke Lukela at HPD. "I'm going to put a BOLO out on these license numbers, but I wanted to explain because it's a little odd. We only have the numbers. We have no idea what kind of vehicles they are."

"Difficult to spot them that way," Duke said.

"I know," Kono said sympathetically. "But if someone does see one, don't do anything to make them suspicious, just report it to Five-0."

"Roger," Duke answered. "Hey, got a traffic report for you. Just came in."

Before she could tell Danny about Duke's news, a serviceman came into the office, dressed in a sharply pressed khaki uniform. The Five-0 officers looked up.

"Can we help you?" Kono started, but stuck on the "can" when her rising gaze fastened on Steve McGarrett's smile above the uniform shirt. Steve's smile became a smirk when he saw his friends' surprise.

"People only see the uniform," he explained.

"Oh, a disguise," Danny realized. "And a good one. Never seen this look on you." His sharp eyes took in the crisp cloth. "It looks practically new, babe."

"I don't wear the service uniforms much," Steve agreed. "Sometimes when I'm teaching a class on base during my reserve weekends. But usually I go between full dress for ceremonies and the down and dirty working uniforms for fieldwork. This is the in-between uniform, good for mingling with civilians," he teased.

"We're honored," Kono joked.

"I figured the suspects got a good look at my truck, but not at me; so the uniform ought to distract them," Steve explained.

"And you see plenty of servicemen in the malls and tourist locations. Not bad, boss."

"And none of the victims have been service members, so that's even better," Danny agreed.

"Right, don't want them to notice me. We don't want to rouse the suspicions of our super-suspicious suspects."

"Bet you can't say that three times fast," Danny laughed.

With Danny at the wheel of his Camaro for a change, he and Steve drove to the alley behind the nail salon to meet chin. Kono followed in her red Cruze. Chin's motorcycle sat beside the fully equipped surveillance van that the two HPD officers had dropped off the night before.

Chin had moved out to the van when the nail salon opened for business. What if Darlene responded to the flier! The rest of Five-0 met him at the door of the van.

"Taking a chance, aren't you, cuz?" Kono said, looking from the motorcycle to the dark clouds scudding across the sky.

Chin chuckled. "I brought my raincoat," he said, quirking an eye at Danny. "I thought the suspects have seen the Traverse too often, so I'd better change it up. And have you seen the traffic?"

"Yeah, what's up with that?" Danny asked. Driving eastbound had been fine, but every westbound road had been jammed.

"Right, I forgot to tell you," Kono said. "Duke told me that a water main burst on the Nimitz west. It's down to one lane each way."

"Ouch," Steve commented.

"Yeah. It's on the far side of the city, but getting through town is going to be a bear," Chin said.

"Hence the motorcycle, no matter how damp the ride is," Danny said.

"That's right, brah."

The four climbed in the van and gathered around the computer screen.

"Seen any movement this morning?" Steve asked, looking at the camera feed, which showed nothing but the front of a quiet house.

"Not a thing, but what's the point of being a pickpocket if you can't sleep late on a rainy day?" Chin asked.

The military man disapproved of wasting daylight, even gloomy, overcast daylight.

"Nice threads, by the way," Chin said, admiring his boss' polished new look.

They chatted and plotted for nearly an hour before movement on the screen caught their attention. The garage door opened. Simon backed the food truck out of the driveway, then parked it in front of the house while Darren backed a black Toyota out of the garage. They locked up and the three pickpockets drove away in their car.

Five-0 had scrambled at the first movement, putting in their earwigs and taking positions at both exits from the dips' housing tract. When they passed, the Camaro pulled out behind the Toyota while Chin and Kono began the now familiar leapfrogging.

Then everything got complicated when the Dipping Crew turned west. The traffic slowed to a crawl. Danny had to work to stay off the Toyota's bumper. On her parallel street, Kono got blocked in and fell back, but Chin zipped ahead on his bike, riding the white line, ready to pick up the pursuit at the next cross street. If the suspects ever got to the cross street!

"This is ridiculous," Danny said as they literally inched along. "We could walk faster than this!"

Steve grunted agreement. He sat slumped in the seat, trying to stay out of sight.

Then behind them they heard a siren. "Really?" Danny exclaimed. They saw a police car, lights flashing, trying to escort an ambulance to the hospital down the street.

The cars did their best to accommodate. They oozed to either side of the one-way street, somehow making a lane down the middle. It reminded Danny of a stripper, slowly, tantalizingly opening a zipper. (Not that he knew anything about such things, he thought, grinning to himself at the memory of a long ago bachelor party.)

The police car and ambulance squeezed through the gap, which closed behind them.

The suspects used the gap to move one lane to the right and their flashing turn signal made space for them to get over to the right-hand lane. Danny didn't dare follow, but he reported their move to Chin, the only one who could get ahead of them. He did and told the others the Dipping Crew had stopped at a small mall.

"I doubt that's what they had planned originally. It's too small. But the traffic is messing up everyone's plans."

The Dipping Crew split up as soon as they left their car and entered the indoor mall separately. Wearing a dark windbreaker and a Dodgers baseball cap, Chin followed Simon.

As Danny pulled into the parking lot, the sky flashed brighter and thunder rolled.

The Naval officer glanced at the clouds. "Better get the car under cover. That storm's coming fast."

"More rain. Goodie." But Danny wasn't surprised. The weather report said another wave of storms was coming in.

"Try to stay out of their sight, Danny," Steve warned.

Danny rolled his eyes, because he knew that. He pulled his bucket hat firmly onto his head and slouched away, hands in his pocket.

Steve put his badge and his weapon in the pocket of his uniform all-weather coat and slung it over his arm; then, standing ramrod straight, he strode into the mall like the Naval officer he was. He tucked his cover under his arm and sauntered in the direction Chin indicated. Steve kept his eye on Simon via the window reflections, pretending to be a sailor on a day pass looking for a Hawaiian souvenir for his sweetheart back home.

"I'm here, finally," Kono reported. "I'm heading to security."

When she got to the office, she showed her badge and commandeered the security cameras.

"Chin, where are you?" she asked.

"Coming up on Jamba Juice," Chin reported.

The mall officer pointed. Kono zoomed in, just as Simon dipped into a gaping handbag. She followed the handoffs until Darren tapped the woman's shoulder and pointed at the wallet at her feet. She thanked him effusively, while her husband thumbed through the wallet to make sure nothing was missing.

"Danny, did you see it? Where are you?" Steve asked.

"I've got them," the detective reassured him. "I'm on the second level across from you, Steve."

Steve flicked his glance upward and saw his friend leaning on the second floor railing looking down into the center courtyard.

"Looks like the vics are heading your way," Chin told Danny. The man and wife got on the escalator. Satisfied the dippers were staying on the ground floor, Danny moved to intercept the two victims.

He showed them his badge and told them the situation.

"So we can help you catch some criminals? How exciting!" said the woman, Mrs. Arlene Miller of Phoenix, Arizona. "And he seemed like such a nice man." She shook her head sadly.

"I think it's outrageous," Martin Miller sputtered. "Police are supposed to protect us from criminals, not stand by while we're being robbed!"

"Now, dear, the detectives can't break their cover," chided the wife, who obviously watched TV cop shows.

"Huh! I'm going to call my congressman about this," Miller threatened.

"Not until you buy me a Hawaiian quilted handbag," his wife said firmly, steering him away from Danny and giving the detective a wink as she left.

"OK, I've got the woman's particulars," Danny said over the com. "But her husband wasn't happy with us. He's going to call his congressman about this outrage."

"I say we pick up the dips the next time they have a wallet in their possession," Steve said firmly.

"Simon is moving in on another open beach bag," Chin reported.

Steve turned away from the shop windows and began moving purposefully in Simons' direction, though the commander kept his gaze on the shops across the way, watching the pickpocket only from the corner of his eye. Danny rode down the escalator, to come up behind Darren. Chin eased within arm's reach of Darlene. Kono tensed as she recorded the action with the security cameras.

"Look sharp, guys. Don't take your eyes off them," Steve ordered. And the weather gods laughed.

The mall lights flared brightly with a crackling sound that was drowned by a thunderclap that shook the walls and made shoppers shriek.

And then all the lights went out.

**A/N: I bet you thought that was "to be continued," didn't you?**

In the security office, one emergency flashlight went on when the power went off, but all the other lights stayed off. Kono abandoned the controls to the mall officer.

"I don't understand! The emergency power should have some on," he exclaimed when all his button pushing failed to accomplish anything.

In the main mall, dim gray light came through a pair of small skylights and emergency exit signs glowed unperturbed, but the rest of the area was in darkness.

On the escalator, Danny stumbled when the steps stopped, caught himself, and then caught a child tumbling past. He set the youngster on his feet

"Everybody OK?" he asked. He got confirmations from the people around him and over his com.

"OK," Steve and Chin reported. "But I can't see anything," Steve added, meaning he couldn't see anyone.

A yellow light flickered into view.

"Wait, I think someone's got a lighter out," Chin said, as he pulled out his smart phone for the flashlight app.

Steve looked past Chin at the dancing flame. "No, it's not a lighter. The building's on fire!"

**OK, now it's "to be continued"**

_A/N: So now Honolulu is beginning to feel the effects of the severe storm. There's trouble ahead for Five-0 caused by man and by nature. Stay tuned!_


	8. Yelling Fire in a Crowded Mall

**Chapter 8 — ****Yelling Fire in a Crowded Mall**

**Monday**

Other people noticed the flames licking at an electrical junction box on the wall above their heads. Cries of fear sounded and people began pushing in the semidarkness, trying to get away.

"Everybody stand still!" Steve bellowed in his "officer on a noisy flight deck" voice. "There's no need to panic. Walk carefully to the nearest exists. No running! No pushing!"

Steve heard Danny and Chin moving toward opposite sides of the mall shouting, "This way, people. This way out. No pushing. Plenty of time. Take it easy."

The orders in authoritative voices seemed to calm most of the shoppers. It helped when light blossomed in the corners of the mall, as the Five-0 officers propped open the fire doors, offering access to the pouring rain outside.

The crowd surged toward the exits. A panicky man tried to force his way through the mass of people, thrusting a child away from his grandfather and knocking a woman to the ground. He was brought to a choking halt by Steve's grasp on his collar.

"I said, no pushing!" the commander growled in his ear. After a warning shake, Steve released him then turned to help the woman up, but someone had beaten him to her. Simon and Darlene lifted her to her feet, while Darren checked the crying child.

"Easy, honey. Are you all right?" Darlene asked sympathetically.

"I twisted my ankle," the woman gasped. "I don't think I can walk."

"Good thing my husband has a strong back," Darlene said.

"To go with my weak mind," Simon added amiably. "How long's it been since you had a piggyback ride?"

He hoisted the injured woman on his back and joined the exodus again. Darren reunited the child with his grandfather, then helped the elderly man toward the exit.

Steve had a second to be glad that they were headed toward Chin and not Danny, then he went back to herding people to safety. The fire was a worry. It was burning merrily high overhead, and had begun to spread, sending out eager fingers of flame.

Steve used the light from his phone to see if anyone had been left behind in the shadows and the confusion. He wished he was wearing his usual cargo pants, which usually had a flashlight in a pocket.

As if in answer to his wish, he saw flashlight beams crisscrossing the upper level as the mall guards initiated a search for damage and stragglers. Steve realized it had been less than ten minutes since the power went out.

Another flashlight beam paused halfway down the stalled escalator. Steve heard the familiar whoosh of a fire extinguisher, then the growing blaze disappeared in a cloud of white powder. A moment later, the beam of a flashlight struck him in the eyes and a voice, also familiar, said, "Everything OK, boss?"

"The mission's blown to hell," Steve replied. "But there don't seem to be any serious casualties. Any idea what happened?" he asked when Kono joined him.

"Lightning," she answered. "One of the outside guards saw it strike a power pole in the parking lot. The transformer blew, probably knocked out power to the whole block, and it overloaded the mall's backup generator, causing the fire."

The chief mall guard came up. "I think you've taken care of the fire, Officer Kalakaua, but we need to get everyone out until the fire department checks. Thank you for your help, commander. I think we've got it under control now."

Proving his words, the mall's emergency lights came on, drawing cheers from the people crowded near the exits.

Steve was willing to be dismissed from emergency duty to get back to his primary job.

Steve told Kono to stick with Danny, on the opposite side of the mall from the suspects.

"I really wanted to catch these guys in the act," Steve said, though he felt a little guilty about that, considering how helpful they'd been in the crisis. "At least we have the video."

Kono and the guard exchanged glances.

"What?"

"The power surge fried the security circuits, that's why the emergency lights didn't go on," the guard said. "The recording might still be there, but we won't know until the system is repaired."

"I wouldn't count on it. There was smoke coming out of the computer, boss," Kono said.

Steve palmed his face. "Can't be helped."

The commander went to check on Chin. Knowing he'd be under the suspicious eyes of the pickpockets, he pocketed his earwig before leaving the building. Good thing, because he came out right next to Simon who was talking to EMT Ab Riley.

Shit!

But apparently Chin had told Riley about the undercover operation, because Riley didn't greet his Five-0 friend. He nodded and continued his words to Simon, "We won't know until we get her to the hospital, but I think she's broken a bone in that ankle. Good thing you didn't let her walk on it."

Simon shrugged. "I didn't do much. This is the real hero," he said, pointing at Steve, to the commander's dismay. "He kept everyone from going nuts."

"You can always count on the Navy," Riley said agreeably. He winked at Steve, then he and his partner Margrette Chandler loaded the injured woman into the ambulance.

Feeling helpless, Steve stood by and watched his three suspects get in their Toyota and drive away. His tension was lightened only slightly when he saw Chin's motorcycle cruise past, following them through the rain.

Steve put his earpiece back in.

"I think they're giving up for the day," Chin said, over the roar of his bike. "Looks like they're going home."

"I'm right behind you," Danny said. Steve saw his ride pull out of the parking lot.

"Hey!"

"You're with me, boss," Kono said, laughter in her voice. Her red Cruze came around the corner. He ducked to look inside the compact car.

"I don't give up my keys to anyone," she warned.

Steve sighed and squeezed his long frame into passenger seat, struggling for a moment until he found the lever to push the seat back.

"Who was in here last?" he complained.

"Auntie Helina, who's five feet tall," Kono said with a chuckle. "And her son Uleki in the back seat, he's six-foot-five."

"Great," Steve grumbled. This day was not going the way he'd planned.

And then things got even better. The governor called. Turned out Mr. Miller, a campaign contributor, really had called his congressman, who had called his governor, who had called Denning.

Steve thought Denning was being unreasonable. On Saturday, he hadn't expected much, so he'd been favorably impressed by Five-0's quick identification of the suspects. That had raised unreasonable expectations, Steve thought. Now on Monday, Denning expected the moon.

Steve tried to explain that they needed to leave the suspects at large to lead them to the bigger fish; but Denning didn't like pickpockets running loose on his island. They had only targeted two mall visitors before the fire. Two who knew, because Danny had told them, that they had been robbed.

"You have until tonight, commander," Denning said tightly. The pickpockets and the continuing weather disasters had him on edge. Kauai had already been declared a disaster area because of severe flooding. Now the unrelenting series of storms had been pounding Oahu for three days and the infrastructure was beginning to break down — as witnessed by the highway closure and the mall power outage. Denning knew emergency services were being run ragged and, though the end was in sight, that end was still five days away.

Denning wanted one crisis out of the way and he expected McGarrett to handle it.

"If you don't spot their contact today, I want you to pick up those pickpockets and sweat the information out of them by whatever means necessary! Understand?"

"Yes sir! Understood!" Steve agreed. Full means and immunity temporarily revived.

It suited Steve's Navy SEAL attack-and-destroy nature. He was beginning to wonder if he'd made the right choice letting Danny and Chin take the lead on this case. Because the case didn't involve any violence, he'd allowed this slow, tail-and-surveil process. But the governor was becoming impatient and so was he. It was time to pursue and subdue.

Or maybe it was just the continuing rain that had them all on edge, he thought, feeling a little guilty. Navy SEALs always acted on intel painstakingly gathered by a variety of operatives. That's what his team was doing, gathering intel.

But three days was plenty. It had to be plenty when the governor was on your back.

**To Be Continued**


	9. Residential Rescue

**Chapter 9 — Residential Rescue**

**Monday**

The Five-0 foursome had gathered back at the surveillance van behind Cousin Suki's nail salon. Steve explained that the governor wanted an arrest right now. He had the Camaros keys in hand, ready to go, but his team balked.

"I don't know, Steve, do we have enough evidence to charge them?" Chin said dubiously.

"We have eye witness testimony," Steve countered. With the hand holding the Camaro's keys, he gestured from himself to Danny to Kono.

"Might not stand up in a court of law," Danny warned.

"The governor doesn't care. He just wants it stopped."

Before the debate could continue, a voice out of the van interrupted them. The police radio had been rattling along unregarded, but the words "All units," caught the cops' attention. "All units, report of a woman and child down under a fallen tree. 1800 block of Lilikoi Street. Nearest fire rescue unit is 40 minutes out." The police dispatcher sounded stressed. The extreme weather was causing problems throughout Honolulu. The fire department was already handling a building collapse, two auto accidents with injuries, a couple swept off a jetty and, despite the rain, a fire — a freeway crash with a burning tanker truck. The nearest free rescue unit was on the other side of Honolulu, on the other side of a traffic blockade caused by the street repair and the freeway crash.

Five-0, on the other hand, was just around the corner.

"That's two streets over," Steve said at the same time Kono exclaimed, "Forty minutes!"

With the governor's direct orders still ringing in his ears, for a tiny fraction of a second, Steve hesitated to leave the surveillance van, torn between the demands of the assigned mission and the call of humanity.

Danny the daddy had no such dilemma when a child was in danger. He snatched the keys — HIS keys — out of Steve's hand and leaped in the driver's seat of the Camaro while Kono tumbled in the passenger door. "Go, go!" she urged.

They sped off, even as Steve jumped for the car. Too late. He was left in the dust. (OK, the mud. There was no dust left in Honolulu after days of rain, though, actually, the rain had stopped for the moment.)

"Damn it! They left me again!"

Behind Steve, the engine of the surveillance van roared to life. Chin looked out the window. "You coming?" he asked.

Steve vaulted in, clinging to the dashboard when Chin took off without waiting for him to get settled.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm the boss of this unit, aren't I?"

Chin smirked a very McGarrett smirk. (They'd all learned from the best.) "And your command is...?"

"To rescue this woman and child," Steve admitted. He used the van's radio to report to dispatch. "But I hope the governor doesn't find out," he told Chin after receiving the dispatcher's relieved acknowledgment.

"Our suspects are scheduled to be at the soup kitchen tonight," Chin pointed out in consolation. "They aren't going anywhere."

"I hope you're right," Steve said. His voice was glum, but his body leaned forward, straining toward the rescue.

When the van reached the address, Danny and Kono were already surveying the disaster scene, while an elderly man leaning on his walker described what happened.

"Marybeth was carrying groceries to her father's house when a gust of wind blew through like a freight train," the agitated man said, sucking deeply on an oxygen tank. "That tree branch broke and crashed down. Well, she had the dog's leash and a bag of groceries in one hand and was holding little Alicia's hand with the other. She didn't have a chance to get out of the way. The branch crashed down on that crazy old man's wall and brought the whole thing down, barbed wire and all. Good thing I saw it. Everyone else on the block is at work or school."

He wasn't exaggerating. The sight confirmed his tale, though it took a minute to mentally process the complex scene. A huge scar on the big old oak showed where the major branch had been, with smaller scars indicating the former location of smaller branches the big one had taken down with it. The wind had torn the branch half off, so it fell leafy end first. That alone saved the lives of the three creatures pinned beneath it. The branch had pivoted down, with much of its weight still supported by the tree when the tips knocked down the woman, trapping her, her daughter and her dog. Then the base had ripped off the tree trunk, crashing down on the wall. The wall — topped with barbed wire! — ruptured, spewing cement blocks and a tangle of wire on top of the cage of branches, which had acted like an umbrella to protect the trio beneath. But they weren't unscathed. The woman was unconscious with a nasty gash on the back of her head and branch puncturing her arm like an arrow, nailing her down. The continuing drip of blood and an occasional moan proved she was still alive. The two-year-old girl was crying, alternately rubbing her bruised forehead and cradling her gashed left arm. A German shepherd lay near them, blinking and twitching as he began to regain consciousness. Twigs from one of the smaller branches were tangled in his collar, pinning the side of his head to the ground.

"Come on, we need to get this off them," Kono urged, reaching for the uppermost obstacle, the tangle of wire. Danny grabbed her arm at the same moment Steve called, "Stop!"

"What?"

The guys pointed at an insulator poking out of the wire. "It's electrified," Steve said. "Why would someone electrify a fence here?"

"Because he's a crazy, paranoid old fart," the neighbor answered.

"How strong is the current, Mr. …?" Danny asked.

"Nakaoka. And it was strong enough to kill my cat," the neighbor said bitterly. "But he was an old cat," Nakaoka added out of justice.

"You think the current is still on?" Chin asked.

The officers looked all around. "I don't see any breaks," Steve answered finally. "And the light in the front room is still on. We have to assume it's still live."

Marybeth began to moan. Only half-conscious, she tried to move and shrieked at the pain that shot up her arm. The dog began to struggle, trying to come to the aid of his owner. The branches began to shake. Two cinder blocks fell through the net of branches. One grazed the toddler's leg. Another block shifted, poised to fall right on the child's head.

"What's the dog's name?" Danny barked at the neighbor.

"Bruno."

"Bruno, stay!" Danny snapped. The German shepherd heard The Voice of Authority Over Dogs and lay still, whimpering. Danny moved to the side where the dog could see him. "Good dog, Bruno. Stay. Good dog."

Stung by the new scrape, the little girl rolled over and tried to find her mother. She didn't pay attention to the Five-0 officers calling at her to stay still. She pushed at a branch between her and her mother. Her hand was perilously close to a drooping loop of wire.

"Steve, I can get under there," Kono said. She pointed at a "tunnel" in the branches. None of the guys could fit through it, but the skinny young officer could.

"It's too dangerous," Steve said. "Touch that wire …"

"I won't touch the wire," Kono argued. "You'd do it if you could," she added tellingly.

"She's got you there, Superman. Instead of arguing, get the power shut off," Danny said. "And, yes, I do grasp the irony of telling you to shut off the power when we went through a blackout this morning." Danny seemed to be controlling Bruno by the power of his gaze. Every time he looked away, the dog whimpered and started to move toward his moaning owner, causing the network of branches to shift and sway. "Bruno, stay!"

"Power. Right," Steve agreed. He'd already figured that out. "Where's the circuit breaker?" he asked the neighbor.

Nakaoka pointed across the debris to the electrical box visible through the gap in the wall. "Backyard. On the side of the house."

Steve couldn't go over the electrified wall. Even the damaged part was warded by the tangle of wire and branches. So he'd have to go through the house. With Steve, to think was to act. He vaulted over a corner of the tangle to reach the front door.

"Jelson's got weapons," the neighbor called in his breathless voice.

"So do we," Chin replied.

"He's just a crazy old Marine, not a criminal," the neighbor wheezed.

"Electrified barbed wire is illegal in most states," Steve replied. "This fence alone makes him a criminal."

Wailing in pain and fear, the little girl started shaking the branch that kept her from her mother. The unstable structure shivered.

"I'm not waiting," Kono said. She flattened herself to the ground and slid on the wet grass. She was under the wood and wire canopy before any of the men could object again.

"Dammit! I'm going in," Steve announced. He kicked the door, but the lock didn't spring. The commander staggered backwards, windmilling his arms, almost falling on the pile of branches.

"Steve!" Danny called in alarm.

Steve caught his balance, breathing heavily.

"Deadbolts," the neighbor observed. "Lots of them."

Steve glared at the feeble old man. "Why didn't you say something?"

"'Crazy, paranoid old fart' didn't give you a clue? The man has dreamed up imaginary enemies for years. You are making his dreams come true." The effort of his speech made Nakaoka begin to cough. He had to sit on the seat of his walker and suck deeply at his oxygen tank.

While he was talking, Chin had fetched the battering ram from the van. He handed the heavy cylinder to Steve, then leaped over the branches to join him on the porch. Kono had slithered closer to the little girl. The dog whined in anxiety, but quieted when Danny spoke him. Kono turned on her back and wiggled to a spot where she could touch the crying toddler.

"Shh, Alicia. Stop moving around, honey. My name's Kono. My friends and I are going to get you and your mommy out of here."

Swinging the battering ram, Steve counted, "One, two, three." Together he and Chin slammed the ram against the door. Deadbolts tore from the doorframe. Steve and Chin plunged inside.

The crash made the dog bark and lunge in alarm. Alicia shrieked. The branches shifted and a loop of wire drooped toward Kono. Eyes wide, she sucked in her stomach. There was a scant quarter-inch between her and the wire. She couldn't move. She was trapped and the electrified wire was sagging.

**Now that's what TBC is all about!**

_I have to confess that all the weather rescues came first and the crime stuff came second.  
Now we're getting to the meat of the original story idea: Five-0 vs. 30-year storm._


	10. Shocking Situation

_A/N: Happy Fourth of July, faithful readers. And a belated happy Canada Day to my Canadian friends. _

**Chapter 10 — Shocking Situation**

**Monday**

Swinging the battering ram, Steve counted, "One, two, three." Together he and Chin slammed the ram against the door. Deadbolts tore from the doorframe. Steve and Chin plunged inside.

The crash made the dog bark and lunge in alarm. Alicia shrieked. The branches shifted and a loop of wire drooped toward Kono. Eyes wide, she sucked in her stomach. There was a scant quarter-inch between her and the wire. She couldn't move. She was trapped and the electrified wire was sagging.

* * *

Seeing Kono's peril, Danny tried a desperate move. "Bruno, sit!"

At his order, the German shepherd stopped trying to creep forward and sat up, lifting the small branch that was still caught in his collar. The wire lay across the whole jumble of branches, so raising the end of even one small branch levered up the electrified wire by about six inches. Kono had room to move again.

"Good dog!" Danny praised.

"Alicia!" Kono decided to use the same tone of voice on the toddler that Danny was using on the dog. She waved an admonishing finger in the child's face to catch her attention. "Stop making all that noise. Lie down and I'll pull you out of here."

"Pull me?" the child didn't understand.

"It's a game," Kono said. "We'll slide on the wet grass."

"Like a slip'n'slide?" the girl mentioned a summer water toy.

"Exactly."

"What about mommy?" Alicia asked, her lip still quivering, though her sobbing had ceased.

"Mommy's turn next. Alicia's turn first." Kono said firmly. "Now lie down flat. Don't touch the branches. And I'll pull you out."

Careful of the girl's wounds, Kono caught the youngster's tiny wrists and, slithering backwards, towed Alicia out from under the mess. An Emergency Medical Services ambulance pulled up just as Kono wriggled out from under the debris. EMT Ab Riley bounded out with his usual exuberance, followed by his more reserved partner, Margrette Chandler.

Riley studied the scene: fallen tree branch (big old tree branch!), demolished wall, cinderblocks and branches and twisted barbed all jumbled together, Kono Kalakaua pulling a child to safety, an injured woman still trapped and Detective Danny Williams staring at a German shepherd as if the dog was more important than all the rest. Riley scratched his head in puzzlement.

"Kono, what's going on?"

The Five-0 officer didn't have time to explain. She handed the little girl to Chandler. "Take care of Alicia for me. I've got to get her mother out."

"Kono, don't go back in there!" Danny ordered. "Bruno can't hold this up much longer." The dog's feet were braced stubbornly but his head was sagging under the weight.

"Then we need something to prop it up," Kono decided. "Any ideas, Mr. Nakaoaka?"

The emphysema patient said, "Got a wooden bench on the porch." He gestured.

Kono ran to get it. Chandler checked over the little girl. Riley carried his kit closer to the woman.

"Don't touch anything, Riley," Danny warned, watching him from the corner of his eye. "The wire is electrified. And the whole woodpile is unstable."

"And the dog's the only thing holding it up?" Riley said incredulously.

Danny quickly explained the set up.

"And where's Steve?" Riley asked.

A crash sounded from inside the house.

"Forget I asked," Riley said.

"He's trying to cut the power to the wire," Danny said.

Even as he conversed with Danny, the paramedic was examining his patient from afar.

"We need to get her out of there," Riley said. "That puncture in her arm isn't bleeding profusely, but it's bleeding steadily. I don't like the size of the pool of blood on the ground. And I don't like how pale she is, or the way she's breathing and sweating. She's in shock and I need to get an IV started stat!"

You won't help anyone if you electrocute yourself trying to get to her!" Danny snapped. Riley didn't take offense. He understood Danny's outburst was out of frustration and worry, not out of anger.

Kono ran back with the bench and, with Riley's help, began to wedge it under the fallen limbs.

* * *

The crash of the tree branch had apparently sent Jelson's paranoia into overdrive. He'd not only locked the door and fastened the deadbolts, he'd piled a barricade of furniture in the entryway and then locked himself in the back bedroom.

When Steve and Chin broke down the front door, the homeowner began cursing them and making dire threats, even though he couldn't see the intruders. The Five-0 officers entered cautiously at first, but once they established Jelson's position, they began to hurl pieces of furniture off the barricade, forcing a path toward the back door. They knew they should secure the paranoid man first — especially since they'd been told he had weapons — but they felt time slipping away for the injured woman.

They hurried out the back. Their goal in sight, Steve told Chin, "See if you can find any tools to pull that wire off."

Chin split off and ran toward a tool shed. Steve opened the circuit box and reached for the main breaker.

"Hold it right there!" an angry voice bellowed.

Turning his head, Steve could see the muzzle of a shotgun pointed his way. Jelson had come out to defend his property, but his interference might get his daughter killed.

* * *

The people in the front yard could see the whole drama through the gap in the wall. Danny drew his weapon, but he didn't have a shot. Steve was between him and Jelson. Danny bit his lip in frustration — then he smiled.

Chin Ho Kelly came up behind Jelson. "Mr. Jelson, put the shotgun down," he ordered quietly, not wanting to startle the man into shooting Steve. Jelson started and spun. Chin knocked his shotgun aside with the handle of a garden rake. Face twisted in a grimace of fury, Jelson launched himself at Chin with his bare hands. Chin thrust the handle between his legs, tripping Jelson; then Chin moved in to subdue him.

The unstable man fought as ferociously as a tiger, but Chin fought with science and cool, controlled skill. Chin turned the larger man's bull-like rush into a controlled fall. He rolled onto his back, planted his feet in Jelson's belly and propelled the enraged man over his head.

Chin bounded to his feet. Jelson came roaring back. Chin caught his arm, jabbed an elbow in his ribs, then rammed his shoulder into Jelson's chest and heaved. Jelson tumbled across Chin's back and landed heavily, face down on the sodden green lawn. The lieutenant pulled out his handcuffs.

Steve had hesitated for a moment. Seeing Chin had the situation under control, Steve flipped the circuit breaker and made sure the power to the house was out; then he picked up Chin's bow rake. Heavier than a leaf rake, the cultivating tool's curved metal teeth were just the thing to pull the wire off the branches.

Chin pulled a still-struggling Jelson to his feet and tried to reason with him. "Your daughter is trapped under those branches. Under the wire. We needed to turn off the power to get her out."

Chin's words finally penetrated the man's addled mind. His eyes took in the scene of destruction and he saw Steve reach out with the rake.

"No! No!" Jelson shouted. "It's on a separate circuit."

Steve was already leaning over to sink the rake into the wire. He tried to swing the rake aside, but he was off balance. He had to let go of the handle. The rake landed across one of the cinderblocks. Electricity arced from the nearby barbed wire to the metal tines of the rake. The smell of burning wood filled the air, as the rake head grew hot, scorching the wooden handle.

Steve looked sick, but no sicker than his friends. Maybe it wasn't a killing current. Certainly Marybeth was still alive, insulated by the tree branches. Maybe the wooden handle would have protected the wielder. But nobody wanted to grab the rake and find out.

Anger electrified Steve. The Navy SEAL advanced on Jelson, but the mentally ill man didn't even notice the menacing figure. He was straining against Chin's grip, actually towing the lieutenant across the yard toward the toolshed.

Hands cuffed behind him, Jelson sank to his knees beside a red hibiscus and nudged the branches aside with his head like a dog. Behind the bush, Steve saw another circuit box. He swiftly threw the breaker.

The sparking stopped.

Everyone stared at the debris for a long moment. Riley took a pair of forceps from his bag and carefully dropped the metal instrument on the wire.

Nothing happened.

Everyone stared some more, and then one by one, they transferred their eyes to Steve.

"You're the boss, boss," Chin said.

"Right."

Holding his breath, Steve grasped the rake and, when nothing happened, he exhaled and sank the tines into the tangle of wire to pull it away from the debris and lock it down to prevent it from shifting.

Danny and Kono grasped the main branch and tipped it up, raising the edge of the tangle so Riley could get to Marybeth. Lifting the branches also pulled the twigs out of Bruno's collar, freeing the dog to run back and forth in confusion.

"Bruno, come!"

The obedient German shepherd went to sit at Danny's side, but kept anxious eyes on Marybeth.

Riley snapped the piece of wood impaling her arm and eased her onto a backboard; then he and Chandler slid her out from under the branches.

Sighing with relief, Danny and Kono lowered the debris, rubbing strained arm muscles. Kono went to comfort Alicia while Danny made a fuss over the dog.

Steve and Chin brought the unresisting Jelson to the ambulance. His scratched and bruised granddaughter ran to hug her handcuffed grandfather. Steve felt sorry for her, but not for the crazy old man.

Fortified with an IV and oxygen, Marybeth opened her eyes. She smiled at her daughter, which made everyone happy, even Bruno.

It took nearly an hour to straighten everything out. Jelson was sent for psychiatric evaluation. Marybeth was sent to Hawaii Medical Center. Her husband arrived to take charge of Alicia and Bruno.

* * *

Finally McGarrett could get back to the governor's pet investigation. Kono was sent to the soup kitchen to see whether Pick a Pocket had made an appearance.

The other Five-0 officers waited two blocks away in the surveillance van.

"Kono, what do you see?" Steve demanded impatiently.

"Nothing, boss. They're not here."

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: The cover photo shows the view from my hotel room on my rainy vacation. You can see it better if you go to my profile page._


	11. Peculiar Pursuit

_A/N: This chapter, one of my favorites, was inspired by my first conversation about Five-0 in Honolulu. More at the end._

**Chapter 11 — Peculiar Pursuit**

**Monday**

"What? They're not there?" Steve exclaimed.

"Relax, boss," Kono chuckled. "There's a note on the door. They had to move around to the rear parking lot because of a roof leak."

Danny looked out the window, past the steady swipe of the window wipers. The rain had resumed. It alternated between a drizzle and a mist, but it never went away entirely.

"They went outside in this?"

Danny and Steve sensed Kono's shrug. "Guess they'd rather have rain fall on their heads than ceiling tiles. I'm going around back now."

She left her Cruze parked out front and walked around the side of the building following the smeared and runny arrow posted on the wall. The scene in back looked much like the VFW event, with a couple of long banquet tents, one over a few long dining tables and one over a serving table set up next to the Pick a Pocket truck. People squeezed under the serving tent, trying to maintain their places in line without straying out into the rain.

"OK, boss, they're here," Kono reported. She hung back, describing the scene, the position of the truck and the fact that there was only one exit from the lot. "If you come in from Turner, you can block the food truck's exit."

For quicker service at the soup kitchen, the pickpockets brought their leftover meats and sides out of the truck to long cafeteria tables. The dips filled pitas with meat. The vegetables, cheeses and sauces were laid out for people to accessorize their pita pockets.

As they worked, the Dipping Crew chatted and bantered with the homeless and unemployed who lined up for the fresh, hot food.

A few minutes later, Chin pulled up on his motorcycle next to Kono's car. He followed the arrow on foot to join his cousin.

Steve brought the Camaro to a halt on the far side of the back parking lot. He put the car's bumper so close to the food truck that they wouldn't be able to drive it forward. Five-0 began to move in, with Kono and Chin coming from the building and Danny and Steve approaching from the parking lot.

* * *

When Kimo saw the notice out front, he drove around back in his Land Rover Range Rover. He was running late, and he'd gone the wrong way. A curb and a torn up muddy vacant lot stood between him and his promise to help. His off-road wonder truck laughed to hear this called rough terrain.

* * *

Simon smiled when he noticed Kono approaching through the crowd, then frowned when he saw her companion. "Darren, I see our friend Kay with one of the guys who helped control the crowd at the mall."

Darren heard the warning as he turned back to the truck to get more pitas. He froze, one foot suspended in the air.

"Simon, I've got the Navy guy from the mall plus our firefighter friend from the trolley stop."

"Shit!" Simon looked around in a panic. The Camaro blocked the truck's exit. There was nowhere to run, then, bypassing all obstacles, Kimo rolled over the curb and bounced across the open field to stop next to Simon. He hopped out of his Range Rover.

"Sorry, I'm late," he apologized.

"We've got to borrow your car, Kimo," Simon said, grabbing the keys out of the young man's hand and handing over his own. "Watch the truck for us."

Simon and his family piled into the off-roader, bounced over two parking stops, swerved around the Camaro, crossed the sidewalk and dropped off the curb.

"Shit!" Steve said. He and Danny reversed course at top speed and ran to the Camaro.

"Stay with the evidence," Chin ordered Kono, pointing at the food truck. He ran back to his motorcycle. Kono watched helplessly, while Chin drove up the sidewalk, zigzagged across the parking lot and set off in pursuit of the no-longer-visible Camaro. Kono combed back her straight black hair in frustration, then realized everyone was looking at her.

Some of the people just shrugged and continued to pick up food, but many in the crowd looked angry that their friends had been chased away.

"Kay?" Kimo asked uncertainly.

Kono displayed her badge to Kimo and the room at large.

Some more people lost interest, not willing to mess with police. Three began to shuffle hastily away, two smelling strongly of paka lolo. But others got even angrier. They'd been hassled by cops before. Aggressive mutterings muttering circled the crowd and Kono realized — badass or not — that she was alone in a hostile crowd.

"All right. Enough of that," the soup kitchen's organizer said sharply. The small, pudgy woman gave Kono an unfriendly glance, but her commanding presence silenced the throng.

"I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure it's a mistake," she said to Kono.

"Except they ran," said a cynic in the group. "People don't run if they're not guilty."

That ended the muttering and deflated the organizer. It was hard to answer that, even though they all knew — including Kono — that sometimes innocent people run because they're scared.

"Well, the timing could have been better," the organizer told Kono almost apologetically.

"At least they left the food," a realist pointed out.

"Right, and they wouldn't want it to go to waste," Kimo said robustly. He caught Kono's arm and towed her to the serving line. Feeding the people would clear the crowd, she realized, and she felt safer with the tables between her and the still simmering anger. But the anger cooled in the face of persistent rain and equally persistent hunger, and the crowd lined up again.

* * *

The Land Rover roared north, dodging through traffic. Its off-road capabilities were little use on surface streets. The Camaro, lights flashing, siren wailing, gained steadily.

The three dips were in a pure panic.

"Don't go home," Darren cried.

Simon at the wheel already had their bolt hole in mind, a little boat bought with cash. It could take them to another island. Disregarding everything but the need to escape, he turned toward safety on the first westbound street he could find. Forgetting about the roadwork on the Nimitz that had all the westbound roads jammed with rush hour traffic, Simon cut left onto one-way Britannia and traffic instantly clotted around the Range Rover. The high-speed chase became a slow speed crawl.

The Dipping Crew realized they were trapped in the traffic jam. There was nowhere to go with cars hemming them in on every side — even a freaking tourist trolley on the left! — and more vehicles were filling the space behind them.

Simon's hand went to the horn, but Darlene snatched it away. "Don't attract attention," she said, breathless with fear.

The three hunched their shoulders and sank deeper in their seats, as if they could hide from the wolves behind them.

* * *

Steve saw the danger in time, swung wide to the right and jolted to a stop in the Methodist Church parking lot.

Danny clutched at the doorframe. "Whoa! What?" he protested.

"You're the one who said it would be faster to walk," Steve reminded him. The commander vaulted from the Camaro. Danny stared for an eye blink, then his brain caught up. He jumped out, paused to reach under the seat for an umbrella, and then ran after his partner through the misting rain.

Steve gestured at Danny to take the right side of the road while he dodged through traffic to the opposite sidewalk. He bent low to stay out of the sight of the suspects who were trapped by a red light one lane from the left side.

Danny put up his umbrella, holding it to conceal his face from the motorists. He hurried, like a man caught in the rain, which he was.

The light changed, but it didn't help the suspects, because the intersection was still full of cars that had turned from the side street.

The Range Rover crept forward, coming up next to the tourist trolley, which made great cover for Steve. He didn't even have to crouch any more. Steve jogged up beside the trolley driver and showed his badge. "I'm coming up."

With poles, crossbars and wooden slats, the side of the trolley was as easy to climb as a child's jungle gym.

Steve grasped the slick bars beaded with raindrops and vaulted aboard.

"What's going on?" the driver demanded.

"I need to get to the people in that car," Steve answered, nodding at the gray Range Rover on the right.

Everybody on the right side of the trolley immediately shifted to the left. Steve glared at them for tipping off his suspects, but the trolley was too high for Simon and company to notice the evacuation.

When he saw Steve take out his gun, the trolley driver began to protest, but Steve cut him off. "This is just a precaution. We have no reason to believe the suspects are armed. Stay quiet and everything will be fine. Try to stay next to him," the commander ordered, as space opened before them and the cars shuffled forward, but didn't get far. The trolley moved with the sluggish flow. Steve clung to a strap and looked across the street for his partner on the far corner.

Danny had located his partner thanks to the mass movement on the trolley. He waited for Steve to meet his eyes then, with a grin, he pushed the crosswalk button, guaranteeing that the light would change again soon.

* * *

Chin had lost sight of the vehicles at first, but he spotted the Camaro and paused next to it in the parking lot. "Guys?" he said into his com. "Where are you? I'm at the church with Danny's car."

Steve described their locations and told him where the suspect vehicle was. "When the traffic stops for the red light, bring your bike up behind them on the passenger side."

"Got it."

The light changed. Motorists cursed, sighed or banged their foreheads on their steering wheels, depending on their temperaments. Chin drove cautiously up the white line, drawing envious looks. Danny started across the street with his umbrella up. Steve moved to the trolley steps.

The black-clad biker coming up behind them distracted the Dipping Crew. They didn't see Steve vault out of the trolley or Danny dart out of the crosswalk past the car ahead of them. Suddenly, the Five-0 officers were banging on the windows. They pointed their weapons at the Ranger Rover and ordered the pickpockets out. As soon as the occupants unlocked the car, the Five-0 pair yanked open the front doors at the same time and hauled the men out by their collars. "Out out out!" Danny yelled. Darrell tumbled to his hands and knees at Danny's feet.

Steve muscled Simon out and shoved him against the car. Darlene scrambled after, clinging to her man's side, staring wide-eyed at Chin who held his shotgun at the ready behind them. "Hands on the car!" Steve barked at the same time Danny yelled, "Five-0! Hands up. Five-0!"

Frightened beyond reason, Darren screamed back, "I don't know what that means!"

Danny looked into the man's terrified eyes. The detective held up one finger of his left hand, signaling everyone to hold on. Danny took two deep breaths himself, ratcheting down his own hammering adrenalin, and then said in a less strident voice. "It means 'police.'" He showed his badge. "Five-0 means 'police'."

"Police?" Darren said hopefully.

"Police," Danny confirmed.

"Police?" Simon beseeched Steve.

"Police," Steve confirmed, displaying his badge.

"Thank god!" Darlene said, tears running down her cheeks. She pressed her face against her husband's arm. "Thank god!"

Simon's knees felt weak. He'd have sat down next to the car, if he hadn't been in the middle of a wet street with traffic beginning to move around them.

Seeing the tension drain out of the scene before him, the driver behind the Range Rover dared to stick out his head and call, "Hey, brah, mind moving? I've been trying to get home for an hour already."

"Chin, take these three over to the curb. Danny, pull the car around the corner." Steve pointed at a parking space on the side street.

"Sure, now I get to drive," Danny grumbled, taking the wheel.

Steve kept the trolley in place while Danny made a left turn in front of it and parked out of the way. The blocked driver and the trolley driver both waved and moved across the street where they were stopped by traffic again. Danny had time to run after them and get their names in case Five-0 needed witnesses to their rather bizarre takedown.

* * *

The Dipping Crew sat huddled together on the curb under Chin's watchful gaze. Simon's quick eye spotted the backup piece in Chin's ankle holster. He thought he might be able to take it without Chin noticing.

"But then what would you do with it?" Chin asked, proving he had spotted Simon's interest.

"I wouldn't have a clue," the pickpocket admitted.

"We're not going to cause any trouble," Darlene said, from where she was sandwiched between her husband and her brother.

"No trouble," Darren agreed. "I just want out from under, Simon."

"Out," Simon agreed, as Chin handed them over to HPD patrol officers with instructions to take them to holding at Five-0.

* * *

At the soup kitchen, the patrons ate hastily and left quickly, wanting to be far away from police problems, especially after a patrol car showed up to back up Kono and then Chin returned with his shotgun.

With the food gone, the soup kitchen staff packed up and retreated into the building. Dangerous ceiling tiles or not, it seemed safer than a parking lot full of cops.

"Now what?" Kimo asked, when he was left alone with the officers.

"Now we search the truck," Kono said.

"I can't let you do that," Kimo said. "Simon left me in charge."

"But we have a warrant," Chin said, displaying the paper.

Kimo read it carefully, then nodded. "What's this all about?" he asked from outside, as the Five-0 officers went through the back of the food truck.

"Your friends are convicted pickpockets," Kono said.

"I know," Kimo said, surprising her. "They told me how the guys met in prison and Darlene started writing to Simon when she found out he didn't have any family at all. Simon and Darlene came here on their honeymoon and liked it so much, they decided to start a new life here."

"They're suspected in an identity theft ring that's targeting tourists," Chin said.

Kimo understood how bad that could be. His family made their living catering to tourists. But he liked the haoles from California.

"I don't believe it," he said uncertainly, but he remembered they ran.

Kono liked them, too. "There's some evidence they may have been coerced."

"At the very least, we can hold them on stealing your car, brah," Chin said.

"No," Kimo said instantly. "I loaned them my car." He jingled the keys at the Five-0 duo. "You can see Simon traded me his keys for mine."

"You're a good friend, Kimo," Kono said kindly.

"I hope your trust isn't misplaced," Chin said.

To be honest, Kimo hoped so, too.

**TBC**

_A/N: So, I was in the van from the airport (and it wasn't raining!) and we ran into some normal afternoon traffic. The driver said, this is what they don't show on TV, the traffic. I laughed and said, yes, McGarrett could run down a car in this. And then later in the week, I was sitting on a tourist trolley in traffic that was honestly just this slow because of road repairs miles away on the Nimitz Highway. And I knew I could have walked faster than the cars were going. That's where this came from. My new cover photo shows highway traffic, not the city traffic jam described in my story._


	12. The Dipping Crew

**Chapter 12 — The Dipping Crew**

**Monday **

Handcuffed uncomfortably to the chair, under the harsh blue light, Simon Falzon was fast asleep when Danny and Steve entered the interrogation room. They'd had a few chores to take care of before talking to him, so they let him stew until 9 p.m.

"So much for making him sweat," Danny commented.

Steve slammed the door behind him, making the pickpocket start awake.

"You're in a lot of trouble, Falzon," Steve snarled, looming over the prisoner in patented McGarrett style. "I want some answers now!"

Danny put his hand on Steve's chest as if holding him back. "Now, Steve, you haven't asked him anything, yet."

"You don't have to put on the good cop, bad cop act," Simon said wearily.

Chewing on his lower lip, Danny cocked his head at the suspect. "See, it's no act. He really is the bad cop," Danny explained. Steve made a face of protest. "Bad ass cop," Danny amended, getting a smile from his partner. "Whereas I am always the good cop, but not necessarily the nice cop," he finished with a feral grin.

Simon nodded. "I understand and I plan to cooperate fully, but may I know who I'm cooperating with? I'm still kind of fuzzy on what Five-0 is."

"Fair enough," Danny said. "Five-0 is the governor's special task force."

"We have full means and immunity to pursue criminals," Steve said. He chose to let Danny do most of the talking (Danny's specialty) while he continued to loom ominously (Steve's specialty).

"Like pickpockets?" Simon said doubtfully.

"Like identity thieves who have stolen millions of dollars from Hawaii's precious tourists," Danny corrected.

"Millions?" Simon said in a small voice.

"Millions," Steve growled.

"Shit," Simon said, closing his eyes in misery.

"The good news is, we are your new best friends if you want to cooperate. I am Detective Danny Williams and this is the head of Five-0, Commander Steve McGarrett."

Simon sat up straight, eyes wide. "McGarrett!"

It was Danny's turn to make a sour face. "You never heard of Five-0, but you have heard of McGarrett?"

Steve smirked proudly.

"The whole Goon Squad is terrified of McGarrett. They talk about him as if he's the Hawaiian god of death and destruction. He has grenades in his glove compartment…"

"…my glove compartment," Danny muttered under his breath.

"… and access to top secret Navy weapons. He drops uncooperative criminals off roofs and throws them to the sharks and drags them behind cars …"

"The last one was Danny," Steve said with a straight face.

"He was tied to the hood," Danny objected.

"The dragging part's a good idea, though," Steve said thoughtfully. "I'll have to remember that for next time. I know a back road that's good and rough with lots of sharp rocks."

Simon went pale. Dear God, all the stories were true.

"So it's a good thing you plan to cooperate," Danny said, having noticed the blanching.

Simon nodded vigorously. "I do. I will." He deflated. "But I don't know much."

"Tell us about the Goon Squad," Steve said.

"That's what we call them," Simon said. "I don't know how many there are. We've seen seven, but they talk like there's maybe half a dozen more. They work for Moriarty."

"What?" Danny exclaimed.

"I know, right?" Simon said. "So arrogant, but that's what the goons call the man in charge."

"Wait. What?" Steve asked.

The other two looked at him. "You never heard of Moriarty?" Danny asked. "Sherlock Holmes' archenemy?"

"I thought we established I never read Sherlock Holmes," Steve said. He replayed a scene in his head. "No, wait, you weren't there when Mary and I were talking about it, when we were trying to figure out the Dancing Men code Dad left."

Danny remembered the code and didn't think Simon needed to hear any more about Jack McGarrett's Champ box. "OK," he accepted. "Moriarty was the Napoleon of crime, a criminal mastermind and mathematical genius."

Steve understood. "Ah, so this guy thinks highly of himself."

"He's a computer wizard, that's for sure," Simon said. "He made money come and go out of our bank accounts as if he was a living ATM."

"If he can do that, why's he going through all this trouble with picking pockets and paying over money at the food truck?" Danny asked.

"One of the goons said he needs a number to start with. I think he just gets his kicks out of controlling people. He has a dozen or so henchmen for bodyguards. They do his bidding, threatening people to make them obey. Take a look at Darlene's arm if you don't believe me. Once he focused on us, we didn't have any choice but to obey. He scares me and I've never met him." Simon sagged in the chair.

"How do you contact him?" Steve asked. He felt sorry for the pickpocket.

"We don't. He contacts us through the goons."

"Like 'Bill,'" Danny said.

"How…? Oh, right, Kay was there last time, wasn't she? Yes, Bill's one of them. He usually makes the payoff. The others only show up when no one else is around," he said bleakly.

"When's your next payoff?" Steve asked.

"Thursday afternoon. It would normally be tomorrow, but our take has been light because of the rain. Our list yesterday included a request for more time. We got a text this morning that just said, 'OK Thursday.' Even with extra time, we were going to be in trouble. With the rain and the blackout at the mall and now this, we've only collected numbers for two tourists."

"Yeah, we know," Steve said smugly. "We've been watching you ever since you left King Kamehameha out front."

"Out front?" The patrol officers had brought the suspects in a back door, but Steve's words helped the Hawaiian newcomer orient himself. He was horrified. "You mean we were picking pockets in front of a police station?"

"Pretty much," Danny agreed.

Simon slumped in his chair. "I deserve to be back in jail." He looked up at his captors. "We moved here to make a new start. We wanted to cook for people. We didn't want to steal, but Moriarty didn't leave us any choice."

"Help us out and maybe we can help you," Danny said, looking at Steve who nodded confirmation.

"We'll help you, just to get out from under Moriarty," Simon promised. "Could you do one thing for me? Send someone to my house tomorrow and make sure the oven's shut off. We were cooking tomorrow's beef, but it should be done by 9 a.m. The oven should shut off when the beef gets to temperature, but I always check."

He knew he was giving them permission to look around, but he didn't have any more secrets to hide.

"We were planning to check your place tomorrow," Danny said. "We have a search warrant for your truck and your home. We've already impounded the truck and searched it."

"And didn't find anything," Simon said.

The Five-0 officers didn't answer, but Simon knew there was nothing to find.

"We'll check your oven tomorrow," Danny promised. "And put the beef in the fridge."

"Thank you."

"Got to keep your cover intact," Steve said.

"More importantly, we don't want good food to go to waste," Danny added. He kept his focus on the important things in life.

* * *

The cousins tried a softer approach on the brother and sister. They questioned the pair more as witnesses than suspects, letting them sit together on a couch in Chin's office.

Darren and Darlene told much the same story as Simon.

"First our savings disappeared, then our truck kitchen caught fire and then …" Darlene stopped and exchanged a glance with her brother.

"Show them," Darren advised.

Darlene unbuttoned the sleeve of her lightweight but long-sleeved blouse. (The long sleeves were odd, now that Kono thought of it.) When she rolled up the sleeve, Chin and Kono saw a half-healed knife slash running diagonally from elbow to wrist.

"That was a warning that Moriarty meant business," Darren said somberly.

"We told the emergency room it was a kitchen accident, not unheard of when you're in food service," Darlene said.

"It's a good thing the bruises didn't show up until the next day," Darren said. "Check my phone."

Photos on his phone documented the raw, fresh wound with stitches holding it closed and bruises showing the fingermarks of the men who had held her arm down. There were photos of Darren and Simon shirtless, with bruises on their necks, arms and shoulders, where henchmen had restrained them.

"Moriarty proved to us he was monitoring our movements and tracking our phone calls. He said he'd know if we made a police report. He knew about the hospital report right away, so we've been afraid to do anything," Darlene said.

"We just obeyed," Darren said flatly.

* * *

**Tuesday**

Professor Ron Hamil took advantage of a brief break in the weather Tuesday morning to take his dog Daisy on her daily walk. The cocker spaniel didn't mind the drizzle. She frolicked and darted from side to side, straining at the leash until she choked just to get a sniff of a fallen leaf or an animal turd. Hamil indulgently followed her lead to and fro along the path through the little undeveloped park near his home.

The elderly man waved at one of his neighbors coming toward him. Lisa Quan ran every day, rain or shine, to keep in training. The high school sophomore had a goal of making the varsity cross-country team, even though the coach said her 4-foot-9 frame was just too small and maybe she should try out for the gymnastics team instead.

Lisa paused for a moment to politely greet Mr. Hamil and pat Daisy on her damp head before she resumed her run. Before she'd even gotten up to speed again, she heard a wooden crack, a funny "whump" noise and a choked off yelp. She looked back to see if Mr. Hamil had heard the same thing, but he was gone!

* * *

Steve and Danny entered the Falzon/Daly house using a key!

"See how much easier this is than kicking the door down?" Danny asked. "And you don't have to clean house paint off the soles of your shoes."

"True, but it lacks drama," Steve answered.

The Five-0 duo searched the main home, finding nothing beyond the information the Dipping Crew had told them. Out back was a second small house, the kind real estate agents called a mother-in-law setup or guesthouse. It originally had contained a main room, a kitchen, a bedroom and a bath. The Pick a Pocket family had taken down a wall, expanding the kitchen, which had been remodeled with industrial equipment. All the health department permits were posted on the wall.

"Law abiding thieves," Danny commented as he and Steve entered. The delightful smell stopped Danny in his tracks. "Oh my God!" the detective said, wiping saliva from his mouth.

"Smells pretty good," Steve commented.

"Pretty good! It smells like heaven!"

"At least it doesn't smell burned," Steve said practically.

"That would be a tragedy," Danny said fervently.

He went to the smoker on the outside wall and, following Simon's directions, Danny removed the brisket and the pork butt to let them rest on the counter. "OK, now we search."

They looked through the business office (formerly known as the living room) and the kitchen, finding only the expected business paperwork and fruits, vegetables, pitas and condiments. And all the time the enticing smell of perfectly cooked meat filled the air. By the time they were done, Danny couldn't stand it any more.

He got a pita, pulled off some brisket and added slices of tomato and just a dribble of Simon's Secret Sauce out of the refrigerator. He ate it standing over the sink, making little sounds of pleasure.

Steve watched in amusement. "That's stealing, you know, detective."

Danny glared at him, but didn't reply because his mouth was full. When he swallowed, he said, "Please, can we find a way to keep these people out of jail?"

"I'll work on it."

Danny finished his sandwich and carefully cleaned up after himself. (He might be a slob at home but not on the job.) Then he took out his wallet. "Got a nickel?" he asked, as he fished out the price of a Pick a Pocket sandwich.

Steve supplied the five-cent piece. "What? Exact change?"

"As you so kindly pointed out, not paying would be stealing and overpaying might be considered some kind of bribe. Exact change is the only way to go."

Leaving his cash with a note on the business desk, Danny wrapped the meat and put it in the refrigerator, patting each piece fondly.

"That was a waste of time," Steve commented, as they left, carefully locking up behind them.

"I disagree. First, it had to be done to be thorough. Second, we collected the records that back up the pickpockets' story. Third, we saved the meat from burning."

"Fourth, you got lunch at 9:30."

"Second breakfast?" Danny joked, then the short man realized he'd set himself up for a Hobbit joke, but Steve manfully resisted the opportunity.

When they got in the car, Danny reported to dispatch. With all the storm-related emergencies, all officers had been asked to keep in touch.

The Camaro was five minutes out from the pickpockets' home, when dispatch called them. The woman said EMS needed assistance with a victim that had fallen into a sinkhole. She gave the address, which was fifteen minutes away.

"Roger, dispatch, we're on our way," Danny said.

Steve flipped on the lights and siren and put his foot down. Danny revised his mental ETA to ten minutes.

* * *

On the main road at the edge of the wilderness park, a little bit of a girl with a long black ponytail danced nervously. When she saw the Camaro's flashing lights, she waved frantically.

"This way! This way!" she called.

Danny opened the door for her and she slipped in the back, pointing them down the jogging path. They could see tracks of a heavy truck, probably the ambulance, in the hard packed mud.

Steve followed the girl's directions, the Camaro slipping and sliding.

Lisa explained that the ground had collapsed beneath Professor Hamil and his dog.

"He broke both his wrists, so he couldn't climb out. He couldn't even hand me Daisy," the girl said. "There was no cell service there, so I ran until I had some bars and called for help. The ambulance came and Mr. Riley is in the hole splinting Mr. Hamil's wrists, but we need help getting them out again."

Margrette Chandler was relieved to see the Camaro. She was a strong woman, but not strong enough to pull her husky partner out of a pit. "Danny, Steve, I'm glad to see you. We need some muscle to get our vic out."

"Muscle, that's what Steve is good at," Danny joked.

Margrette had seen Danny's broad shoulders too often (usually with bandages involved) to think he was a weakling either.

Tied to a nearby tree, a muddy cocker spaniel whimpered anxiously. Danny patted her as he passed. He and Steve looked down into a sinkhole that was filling with water from an unseen source.

Riley was working on his patient in a pit that looked strange, because it seemed to be semi-furnished. Half-rotten wooden lattices lined each of the four walls. Broken boards, possibly remains of the roof that Hamil had broken through, leaned against the walls at odd angles. Riley's first aid kit was perched on top of a small bookcase. A teacup floated, listing heavily, in the swirling water.

Sitting in a foot of water, Riley was finishing his splinting while Professor Hamil held his arms up out of the flood and calmly analyzed their location, distracting himself from the pain.

"It looks like a World War II bunker, not a military one, but a homemade hideout," Hamil said. "It even has running water," he said, ironically, looking at the trickle of liquid that was filling the hole. "That must have been a drainage pipe," he mused, nodding at a rusting pipe that disappeared into the earthen wall. "I think I've seen the other end of that pipe when Daisy and I were walking along the stream. Never knew what it was. It's blocked by rocks and debris, of course."

"Of course," Riley agreed, since the pit was filling with water and drainage was definitely lacking. The EMT carefully lifted the older man to his feet.

"Riley, you need a hand?" Danny asked.

"Two, please," the paramedic answered. "I'm going to lift Professor Hamil up to you. Catch him under the armpits, please. Don't touch the wrists."

"Got it," Steve confirmed.

Riley caught the wizened professor around the waist and easily lifted him up within his friends' reach. Danny and Steve each took one arm and hoisted Hamil to safety. The women ushered the older man to a seat on the bumper of the ambulance as the dog barked and bounced happily.

"Really, I'm fine, Lisa," Hamil comforted the girl. "Only my wrists are broken. The rest of me is uninjured, I assure you."

The Five-0 officers went back to the pit and took the equipment Riley handed up to them. The water was now up to his chest. Riley used the rickety lattice as a ladder to climb up. Steve and Danny gripped his elbows to help him out.

They heard a rush of wind.

"Look out!" Chandler cried in alarm, seeing a storm cell swooping toward them like an ugly gray bat out of hell.

Rain swept in and began to pound down with bruising force. The muddy side of the pit dissolved. The lattice collapsed. Catching Riley's foot like a bear trap, it wrenched the paramedic out of Danny and Steve's hands and yanked him to the bottom of the pit. He dropped out of sight, entirely underwater.

**TBC**

_A/N: On Monday I will have carpal tunnel surgery and will be banned from repetitive motion (like typing) for two weeks or more. I have uploaded a few stories that I hope I will be able to post using only my left hand, but I won't be able to respond to messages or write reviews. Hope you'll bear with me.  
- Qweb_**  
**


	13. A Brush with Murky Death

_A/N: This chapter is for my sister who wanted me to put Riley in danger._

**Chapter 13 — A Brush with Murky Death**

**Tuesday**

The Navy SEAL reacted instantly. He jumped into the pit. He couldn't help but land on the lattice, pinning Riley even more firmly to the floor. Taller than Riley, Steve's head was still above water. He ducked beneath the water. Though he could see next to nothing in the muddy water, he could feel Riley wrenching at the lattice that had him trapped. Steve edged off the lattice and added his muscle to Riley's. The lattice shifted, then caught again and refused to budge further, but it gave the paramedic enough leeway to get his face out of the water.

Steve supported him as Riley gasped for air.

"Come on!" Danny urged from the edge of the hole.

"His foot's still caught. And the water's still rising!" Steve yelled. "We need rope."

Danny ran for the Camaro, but there was no rope. He remembered that they'd used it on a camping trip with Grace. It was still in Steve's truck. The ambulance didn't have any rope, either; but Danny saw something else that gave him another idea. He took one moment to empty his pockets into the Camaro's trunk. He considered taking off his shoes, but, remembering the debris in the pit, he opted to keep his feet protected, then he grabbed a sturdy scalpel out of the ambulance and jumped into the pit next to Steve.

"What?"

"No rope," Danny answered, then duck dived, standing on his head to grope for Riley's foot. There were advantages to being small, Danny thought. A bigger man wouldn't have been able to upend himself in the tight quarters.

Steve sensed Danny's purposeful movement, but couldn't tell what was happening.

"What's he doing?" he asked Riley.

Riley's head was tilted full back, but the waves of the rising water kept sloshing into his mouth. Even with Steve's help, the paramedic would soon be unable to breathe. But he could feel Danny's hands working their way down to his booted foot.

"I think… he's trying … to untie my shoe," Riley gasped.

Danny worked for a long moment, longer than Steve thought he could hold his breath. The detective popped up for a breath. "Wet shoelaces!" He dived again.

The water had risen so much that Riley had to hold his breath. Steve gripped his head firmly and covered Riley's mouth with his own, exhaling so Riley could inhale. Buddy breathing, they tried to hold still, so Danny could work.

Now that Danny was oriented, he used the razor sharp scalpel to slice through the laces, then he pulled the boot top apart.

Riley felt it. He jerked upward, mouthing "Pull!" at Steve. All three men pulled and the foot popped free from the trapped boot. Riley rose, gasping for breath. He started swimming weakly, exhausted by the strain.

"I've got you," Steve reassured him.

Danny rose to the surface beside them. He treaded water weakly also, because there wasn't room in the overcrowded pit for strong swimming motions. Steve was standing on his toes, supporting the fainting Riley.

"Save your strength, Danny. Hold onto me," Steve instructed.

"Can we climb out?" Danny asked doubtfully, keeping one hand on Steve's shoulder while he studied the sides of the pit.

"I wouldn't try it," Steve answered.

Under the water's flow, the edges of the hole were melting like ice cream in the sun. It would be more dangerous to try to climb out than to tread water and wait for rescue.

Steve held his shorter companions' heads above the water, as the sinkhole filled. When he could no longer touch the bottom with his toes, the Navy SEAL began to swim, kicking strongly with his legs while clutching the other two.

"I can swim, you know," Danny shouted over the roar of the falling water.

"No room!" Steve shouted back, and it was true. There was no space in the narrow hole for two sets of flapping arms. "Hang on and keep Riley's head tilted back."

So Danny took over support of the unconscious paramedic while well-trained SEAL used his powerful legs to keep all three above water. The men clung together praying for rescue and wondering what the heck happened to Margie Chandler.

Danny and Steve heard Professor Hamil's voice exhorting the women; they replied and began moving farther away! Then a steady banging noise began somewhere nearby.

More mud sloughed into the hole, making the water thicker and weighing down the men's clothing. Even Steve was starting to feel the strain, when a final bang was accompanied by a shout of triumph and a strange glooping roar. The water level began to drop. Steve's feet touched the ground, then sank deeply into the mud. He tried to keep his friends out of it, but couldn't. Still, Riley and Danny didn't sink as deeply because they weren't weighted down by two other people. When the situation stabilized, Steve was mired up to his knees in mud, with water up to his waist. He cradled the unconscious Riley against his chest. The paramedic stirred, beginning to come around. Danny sank only to ankle depth in the mud, leaving him in the unusual position of looking eye to eye with his taller partner. Though Danny and Steve could move, they were careful not to. Stirring up the mud would only make them sink deeper. It was like being in quicksand.

Rain kept pouring in — though it seemed to be slowing — but some invisible outlet now carried it away before it rose too high.

Three faces peered anxiously over the edge of the pit, Professor Hamil, Lisa Quan and Margie Chandler. "Thank God!" Margie said. "And thank you, professor, for finding the drainage outlet."

"Sorry it took so long to get it open," Hamil apologized to Danny and Steve. He held up his splinted arms to remind the men he could only supervise while the women did the digging.

"Perfect timing as far as I'm concerned," Steve answered, as the rain cell passed and feeble sunlight appeared.

A fire department rescue crew arrived in answer to Chandler's call for HELP! They lowered a ladder into the hole. It settled deeply into the sludge, but found firm purchase eventually.

By this time, Riley had recovered from his faint and was able to make his shaky way up the ladder with Danny helping from behind. But Steve stayed where he was.

Though the sun was out and the water level constant, the mud continued to rise as the saturated walls dissolved into the hole. When Steve boosted Riley and Danny onto the ladder, he drove himself deeper into the muck. It now reached to his thighs and he couldn't pull free.

He looked up at the firemen plaintively. "You guys got a shovel?"

HFD Firefighter Harnett clipped himself to the ladder and carefully excavated around Steve's feet.

"Why am I always digging you guys out of the dirt?" Harnett asked.*

Soon Steve was able to pull his feet out of the mud and climb the ladder, edging around Harnett who had to dig a bit around the legs of the ladder so they could pull it out of the mire.

Steve looked like he was wearing dark brown hip waders to go with his overall brownish outfit. Danny, who had been entirely underwater longer, looked like a Mud Man from Mars, with just a clean mask across his eyes.

"Can we get a rinse off?" he begged the firemen.

They not only hosed off the Five-0 officers, but supplied blankets to protect the Camaro while Danny and Steve drove to the hospital to get checked out.

* * *

Chin entered Five-0 headquarters. He'd had brunch with his wife and, not incidentally, a chat with Five-0's favorite chef/informant.

"I talked to Kamekona," he reported to his cousin. "Turns out he knew about the disappearing goons, but he didn't realize it related to our food truck friends. He gave me a few names we didn't have. We can let the pickpockets look at mugshots to see if they recognize anyone, so we can put out a BOLO."

"Did Kamekona know any more?" Kono asked.

"Just that word is they've gone Windward."

"Not much to go on," Kono said doubtfully.

"We'll find them," Chin answered confidently. "It's a small island," he reminded her.

"Not that small," she retorted.

Chin's cell rang and a familiar name flashed at him.

* * *

Danny, who had a working cell phone, unlike Steve, called headquarters while Steve piloted the Camaro.

"Hey, Danny, what's up, brah?"

"Chin, can you collect some clean clothes from Steve's locker and mine and bring them to Hawaii Medical Center?"

"What? Why?" Danny heard Kono's voice and realized he was on speaker. "How did you get hurt searching a house?"

He explained what happened, making it a funny story about a muddy mess, instead of a brush with murky death. Not that he expected to fool his friends. They were detectives, after all.

"So we're wet and filthy."

"And that's all?" Kono asked. "Why are you going to the hospital?"

"Because Chandler made me promise on my honor as a Navy officer," Steve said sourly.

"Good for her," Kono said. A woman in a man's world, Kono believed that sometimes her macho friends were their own worst enemies.

"We'll meet you with clothes," Chin promised.

They all kept spare clothes in their lockers because there was always a chance they'd have to dive into the harbor after a suspect or just get caught in one of Hawaii's passing rainstorms (as opposed to this headline-making weeklong series of storms).

The cousins went together to the hospital because they wanted to see for themselves that their friends were all right.

* * *

"No, really, I'm a little tired, but that's all," Danny insisted, when Kono studied him carefully. He and Steve were in the waiting room, still wrapped in the firemen's blankets. Though relatively clean, thanks to the firemen's hose, they were uncomfortable as their damp clothes dried.

"It was tiring swimming in that pit. It was as much mud as water," Steve agreed. More practiced in swimming, the Navy SEAL looked fresher than his partner, though even he felt the burn.

A nurse came to take the partners to separate examining rooms, where lungs were found to be clear and hearts to be strong, and the men were allowed to get dressed. When his doctor was called away, Steve made his escape and went next door to check on Danny.

Danny was sitting in a chair, putting on his shoes. When he stood up, he slipped in a dribble of water on the floor.

"Whoa!" Steve caught him by the arm.

Danny hissed and pulled away, catching himself on the examining table.

"Sorry. Sorry!" Steve said anxiously. "Did you hurt your arm in the pit?"

"No," Danny said, rubbing his upper left arm. "The storm's caused sewage overflows and has picked up who knows what filth out of the streets. The water we were swimming in is considered contaminated. They gave me shots for tetanus, diphtheria, typhoid and I forget what else."

Steve smiled, relieved Danny's pain wasn't anything serious, but the smile aggravated Danny. "You were in the water, too," the detective pointed out. "It'll be your turn next."

Steve shook his head. "Sorry to disappoint you, partner, but I've spent most of my Navy career in places, well, let's just call it the Third World. I've been inoculated for diseases you've never heard of."

"But according to the records the Navy forwarded us, it is time for your tetanus/diphtheria booster," said the nurse, as she opened the door after a cursory warning knock. She had tracked down her wandering patient without much trouble.

Steve made a face, because, no matter how tough you are, no one likes shots.

Danny laughed to see the tables turned. "OK, now I know what Tetanus Shot Face looks like. C'mon partner, show the nice nurse your tats."

Steve rolled his eyes and rolled up his sleeve. While the nurse gave the injection, Danny craned his neck to peek at Steve's medical records. It was just a list of vaccinations and inoculations, but several lines had been heavily blacked out before the list had been faxed.

"Really? Your shot history has been redacted?" Danny said incredulously.

Steve looked smug. "I told you. If you found out where I've been, I'd have to kill you, and that would be a waste of a good rescue."

The arrival of the doctor put an end to their banter.

"You two can go," he said. "Everything looks fine. Just take it easy for the rest of the day."

"Glad to, if the boss allows," Danny answered, rolling his eyes at Steve. "How's Riley?"

"We want to keep him overnight. Make sure his lungs are clear. Barring complications, he'll go home tomorrow and be back to work by the end of the week."

"That's good," Steve said. "Can we see him?"

"For a minute. He's just across the hall."

Danny knocked and he and Steve entered. Riley was lying on the examining table, comfortably wrapped in a warm blanket.

Danny looked down at the supine paramedic who had treated the detective so often. "This is new," Danny joked. "I kind of like the change in perspective."

Riley chuckled. "Don't get used to it," he warned. "I'm sure you and Steve will be up to your usual tricks, soon."

They chatted for a few minutes until the nurse came with a wheelchair to transport Riley to a room.

When the partners returned to the waiting room, Chin and Kono ganged up on them and forced them to go home.

"You've done enough today," Chin said firmly. "We're waiting for the hand over on Thursday. You can take a day off."

Steve seemed hesitant, but Kono knew his weakness. "Boss, Danny needs the recovery time, but he won't go unless you go," she said quietly in Steve's ear.

Steve looked at his partner lounging against the wall, trying to pretend he didn't really want to sit down for a while. Steve's gaze softened when he remembered Danny jumping without hesitation into the water-filled pit because his friends needed his help.

"Come on, Danny. Let's take the day."

Danny blinked. "Who are you and what have you done with SuperSEAL?" he kidded, but he wasn't really complaining. A couple hours' nap and he'd be good to pick up his daughter after school. Dinner with Grace would paint rainbows across any gray day.

* * *

That night, the Redmund family gathered for dinner at a nice restaurant. Each couple had gone its separate way for a little alone time on the islands, but they had reunited in advance of a three-island cruise. Kent Redmund held his sons and daughters-in-law enthralled with his tale of the King Kamehameha statue, the pickpockets and the cute detective with the royal name.

With four couples assembled, the table was large and Kent had to raise his voice more than he intended. The story, which included a quick tour of the State Capitol looking for someone to confirm Kono's ID, drew the attention of nearby diners. It was much more interesting than most of their complaints about luaus canceled and sights missed because of the rain.

But one woman found the story horrifying. It sounded much too much like what had happened to her near the king's statue. She and her husband exchanged an appalled glance, then called for their bill and hurried off to their hotel room for privacy while they called to cancel her credit cards.

While they were outside catching a cab, one of Kent's sons asked about the same thing. "Did you cancel your cards, Dad?"

"No, Officer Kalakaua asked us not to. They want to track any transactions the identity thieves make," Esther Redmund answered for her husband.

"It might tip off the bad guys," Kent said. "And we wouldn't want that," he added, as another victim went to do just that.

**To Be Continued**

* * *

_A/N: *You have read my story "Charades," haven't you? When Harnett dug Danny out of a pile of sand?  
And in case you've forgotten, Redmund is the pickpockets' victim from back in chapter 2 — 11 chapters ago, but only four days in Five-0 time._


	14. Food Truck Fiasco

_Hello, The surgery went well but I need to baby my right hand because the incision keeps seeping blood. TMI, I know. My new cover and avatar photos are the Ala Wai Canal which plays a part in the next couple of chapters, though I rearranged the canal's geography to suit my plot._

**Chapter 14 — Food Truck Fiasco**

**Wednesday**

Usually Danny would gripe when Steve deposited a new piece of equipment in the Camaro's trunk; but when Steve walked over with a coil of rope on his shoulder, Danny just popped the trunk lid.

Now that we have it, we probably won't need it," he joked.

He would learn soon enough just how wrong he was.

* * *

It was a quiet Wednesday. The sun came out, letting the Honolulu area dry out a bit, giving Waikiki tourists a smidgen of the paradise they'd expected and enabling the workers repairing the Nimitz Highway to accidentally crack the protective covering on a gas line and extend the road closure for another day.

_A/N: Yes, they really did._

But a new wave of the storm blew in by Thursday morning, when the Dipping Crew was supposed to make contact with Moriarty's men at an afternoon concert in the park. In hopes of leniency, the pickpockets had agreed to serve as bait so Five-0 could tail the Good Squad back to their home base.

* * *

**Thursday**

The greenbelt park lay alongside the Ala Wai Canal, built to drain the excess moisture from Waikiki, which would be a swamp without the Ala Wai. Considering all the excess moisture that had fallen from the skies this week, you can imagine that the Ala Wai was running high and fast, but it made a picturesque backdrop for the park.

Unfortunately for Pick a Pocket profits, the concert was canceled, but Pick a Pocket showed up anyway, with the park manager's blessing. He understood that the food truck would have slim pickings anywhere during a rainstorm.

"I'm sorry about the turnout," Park Manager Jerome Moodiyum said apologetically, as he claimed the day's Mexican beef special. He looked around, seeing only a young woman on a park bench grimly huddled under an umbrella apparently waiting for a boyfriend who was going to catch hell for turning up late. A homeless man crouched under a small overhang near the drinking fountain next to his shopping cart piled with bulging plastic bags containing all his worldly possessions.

"Our regulars can find us," Simon said, trying to sound cheerful. In fact, Kimo and a couple of other customers had picked up to-go orders already.

Moodiyum took his lunch back to his office. The small cinderblock building had the park office on the front, public rest rooms on the back and drinking fountains on the side facing the food truck.

Pick a Pocket occupied the center of the park's small parking lot. The truck was parked with its nose toward the building and its back to the park. The food service window faced the parking lot. The overhanging flap that was raised to reveal the service window provided some protection for customers braving the rain to place orders. A few had apparently taken the chance. A silver Camaro and a dark Silverado were parked at opposite ends of the lot, while their drivers dined on pocket sandwiches.

"You were right," Steve told Danny over the com. "These are good." He bit into a pork pocket piled high with double veggies.

Danny had ordered his brisket with pepperoncini and smoked mozzarella. It tasted like home in New Jersey. "Kono will have to show me how to Tweet so I can follow them," Danny answered.

"I'll show you," the wet woman on the park bench promised. The surfer was used to being wet and didn't mind because the weather still wasn't cold.

"Please," Danny agreed. "There will be times I'll need to track them down for a Pick a Pocket fix."

"Assuming they don't go to jail," Steve said.

"You will put in a good word for them, won't you, boss?" Kono asked. "Because I'm not sure I can live without their peanut butter dessert pockets."

"Would you three cruel people stop talking about food," complained the homeless man, who didn't like rain lashing in his face even when it was warm.

"Sorry, Chin," Danny said, sipping from a paper cup of coffee. "Wish I could give you some of this, but I only donate to established charities for the homeless," he continued piously.

"Very funny, Williams. I'll remember this," Chin threatened playfully. He knew full well that none of his cohorts could break cover to supply him with food.

But Pick a Pocket had a reputation for charity. Darren left the truck with a paper cup of hot coffee and a beef pocket with lettuce and tomato.

"It's not a good day to be outside," Darren told the homeless man, not recognizing Chin until the clever lieutenant raised his head.

"Thanks," Chin said, taking a swift bite of the hot food as a half-starved person would. "Danny and Steve were making me hungry."

"Oh, it's you. I was going to ask you to move on so you didn't get hurt if the Goon Squad causes trouble."

"Not to worry. We've got your back," Chin assured Darren.

"Yes, but … these guys are scary," Darren said apologetically and started back to the truck.

"Did you guys hear that?" Chin asked over the com. "Maybe we should be taking this more seriously."

"Too late to worry about it," Kono answered from her position near the street. "Here comes the Mercedes now." She watched the car coming, then stiffened. "Guys, the BMW behind the Merc has one of the missing license numbers," she said urgently.

The Five-0 foursome could see two men in each car. Four men were too many for a simple pickup. Four men meant trouble.

"I don't supposed they just had a craving for slow-cooked brisket," Danny said and used the police radio fastened to the shoulder of his bulletproof vest to call for backup before any of his friends could respond.

Kono stood up as if tired of waiting and began to walk down the sidewalk toward the parking lot. Chin got to his feet, leaning on his shopping cart, feeling the reassuring butt of his shotgun beneath a camouflaging bag of packing peanuts.

Danny and Steve held their positions in their cars, but cracked open the drivers' doors for quick egress.

The suspect cars pulled up right in front of Darren, next to the rear door of the Pick a Pocket truck.

"Stay in the truck," Simon told his wife, then went out the door to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother-in-law. Just get them talking, Simon thought. He was wired and Five-0 was recording.

"Something wrong, Bill?" he asked. "I've got your list right here," he added, showing a crumpled strip of paper palmed in his hand.

"Not good enough," Bill said. "A couple of your numbers from last time have been canceled. You've gotten noticed, so you're no use to Moriarty any more."

"Go!" Steve ordered his team.

A spike-haired goon pointed his gun at Darren's head.

"No!" Simon leaped, grabbing for the gun and shoving it upward. It went off and Simon screamed, falling to the wet pavement, blood running from his hand.

Ignoring his own danger, Darren dropped to his friend's side, applying pressure to the wound. That cleared the line of fire for Five-0.

"Police!" "Five-0!" four voices roared.

The goons sprang away, pulling their guns and firing.

Danny and Steve ducked behind their respective vehicles.

Danny heard sirens approaching and saw a blue and white race around the corner. "Shots fired," he warned through the police radio. "Repeat, shots fired. Five-0 is engaging four suspects." But the police car had already roared into the parking lot.

The flashing lights and siren of their natural enemy distracted the goons from their more immediate adversaries. Three opened fire on the police car. Someone's bullet found the overzealous driver, who swerved out of control and crashed into the Mercedes.

The fourth gunman was still focused on pickpockets. He aimed at Darren again.

Chin shoved his shopping cart into the goon, pulling out his shotgun as he pushed the cart away. When Spike staggered, Chin grabbed Simon and Darren and towed the staggering pair to safety behind the small park building.

"Darlene's in the truck," Darren panted, still trying to stem the flow of Simon's blood.

"She's safer there, for the moment," Chin answered, tearing off his hampering disguise to reveal his bulletproof vest with "Police" emblazoned across it.

Spike recovered his balance and chased after the "homeless man" and the two unarmed pickpockets. He must not have seen the shotgun. He leaped around the corner firing before he actually saw what he was shooting at. A slug caught Chin in the edge of the vest, spinning him around. The agile lieutenant went with the blow, pivoting in a 360 and planting his feet facing the shocked goon again. Spike raised his pistol again and Chin lost his famed patience. His shotgun spoke the last word Spike ever heard.

* * *

Danny ran to assist the two HPD officers. He wrenched open the passenger door of the patrol car and helped Officer Mahoe pull injured, cursing Officer Hamilton to relative safety across the front seat. When the goons started peppering the patrol car with bullets, Mahoe began to return fire

The trio of gun goons took cover behind the food truck.

Danny caught Mahoe's elbow. "Pick your shots," Danny warned. "There's an innocent woman in the food truck and McGarrett's coming around the other side with Kalakaua."

"Right."

Danny and Mahoe braced themselves, holding their fire until they identified a target.

* * *

Kono and Steve dodged from his truck to a heavy concrete trash container and then to the nose of the food truck. Steve took a quick peek around the back at the three gunmen clustered near the tail of the truck with their attention focused on Danny and the patrol officer.

"We're in position," Steve said quietly into his com.

"We want them alive," Danny warned.

"I know! But they're not cooperating!" Steve eased around the nose of the truck with Kono right behind him.

"What's all this noise out here!" yelled a voice behind them.

Behind thick cinderblock walls and double-paned windows, Moodiyum heard popping noises and thought it was firecrackers. He came out to chase away the kids who'd forgotten that the Honolulu Festival was last week. But when he opened the office door, he and the Five-0 twosome found themselves the focus of many eyes and too many guns.

**TBC**


	15. Pursue and Subdue

_Author's Note: Recovery is going so well I went back to work this week. thanks for all the well wishes._

**Chapter 15 — Pursue and Subdue**

Crouched in sneaking pose, Steve and Kono stared at Moodiyum. The three trigger-happy gunmen began to fire at the three people behind them. Kono dove to safety up and across the hood of the truck. Steve tackled Moodiyum backwards through the open glass door of the office, as all hell broke loose. Glass shattered with a musical cacophony like Hell's symphony orchestra. Steve covered the smaller man with his body and covered his own head with his arms while glass rained down on them in a storm more deadly than the one outside.

Kono rolled across the hood of the food truck and dropped to hands and knees in a puddle on the far side. She looked beneath the truck and could see one gunman's leg as he knelt to reload. Kono threw herself on her side on the wet asphalt, extended her arms and fired.

The gunman screamed and collapsed, clutching his thigh.

"There's too many!" a hefty dark-haired goon yelled.

"Get in the truck!" Bill shouted back, pointing at the passenger side door. "Drive!"

The goon leaped to obey. Kono's second shot took a chip off the curb next to the goon's foot. He vaulted into the truck, slid into the passenger seat and deftly hotwired the car, while Bill methodically fired in all directions, keeping the Five-0 officers back.

As the engine roared to life, Bill swung into the back door that opened into the kitchen area. He found Darlene crouching there, trying not to cry as the terrible sound of her husband's scream echoed in her ears.

Bill grabbed her arm roughly, as the truck began to move. Darlene fought like a mad woman. She thrust Bill backwards. He put out his hand planting it on the surface of the hot grill. He cried out, then with a bellow of rage, he grabbed the woman, as the massive truck began to pick up speed. Darlene clung to the refrigerator handle. Bill grabbed her around the waist, meaning to throw her out of the moving truck. Darlene's grip slipped. Bill dragged the screaming woman to the rear door.

Picking their shots, Danny and Mahoe blew Bill's head off.

Darlene shrieked and shoved in revulsion. She staggered backwards and fell in the kitchen. Bill's body slid out the back door and dropped to the wet street next to Kono who had rolled frantically away from the wheels of the food truck.

* * *

"Are you all right?" Steve asked Moodiyum the moment the shooting stopped.

"Yes," the man said breathlessly. "Thank you."

"All in a day's work," Steve answered, meaning every word. "Gotta go."

He leaped to his feet and, ducking his head, jumped through the shattered front window in time to see the food truck heading west. He shook his head spraying bits of safety glass into the rain.

One swift glance and the trained Navy operative took in the whole scene. Kono crouched over the screaming man she'd shot, trying to stem the copious flow of blood from his thigh. Chin was even busier, calling for EMTs and a crime scene unit, while helping Darren with the moaning Simon. Mahoe pressed his hand to the minor wound in his partner's neck.

Danny didn't even press his hand to Bill's neck, because the number collector was really most sincerely dead.

"Danny!" Steve yelled. He ran for the Camaro with Danny right behind him. "We've got to catch that truck!" Steve told his partner.

"Yes, we do," Danny said grimly, as he slid into the passenger seat. "Darlene's trapped in the back of the food truck!"

* * *

Windshield wipers flailing against the downpour, the Camaro roared after the food truck. Danny clung to the dashboard as Steve threw the speedy car into a curve, throwing up a rooster tail of water.

Danny clutched the safety bar with one hand and the police radio with the other, constantly updating their position. The dispatcher was rattling off information as quickly as a croupier shuffling cards. HPD and EMS had responded to the park, answering Danny's first "shots fired" call. It startled the detective to realize just how little time had actually passed since everything went FUBAR.

Danny's cup bounced out of the holder and splashed on his knee. He yelped and rubbed the damp patch. There hadn't even been time for the coffee to get cold!

Danny's phone lit up with a simple text message under Chin's name: "We're coming." He and Kono had left their patients in the hands of the paramedics. Now Kalakaua, Kelly and a patrol car were "en route" to back up McGarrett and Williams, according to the dispatcher's speedy but calm pronouncements. Williams hoped they'd hurry the route up!

Swaying from side to side, the food truck cut left. Bags of chips flew from the side compartments and bottles of soda burst like grenades on the street, then the side flap crashed down and latched closed.

In the back, Darlene staggered and cried out when hot oil splashed out of the deep fryer onto her arm. She grabbed a dishtowel and covered her head and as much of her body as possible. She crouched in a corner, bracing herself against the wild gyrations of the racing truck, and prayed.

The rear door of the food truck was flapping, giving the pursuers occasional glimpses of the woman bracing inside. They were watching when the truck caromed off a curb, sending the coffee urn crashing down on her head. Fortunately it was almost empty, but after the blow, Darlene was limp, flung hither and yon by the motion of the truck.

The food truck smashed through a sawhorse barricade that proclaimed the road was closed for repairs. The Camaro followed, as Danny relayed their position and requested EMS at their location, whenever they finally located!

"It's an island!" Danny exclaimed in exasperation, clutching at the safety bar again. "Where does he think he's going in a denim blue truck with flaming orange letters a foot high?"

"He's not thinking. He's just running," Steve answered over the snarl of the powerful engine.

"I know … Watch the truck! The truck!" A public works truck surrounded by orange warning cones was blocking the right hand lane while workers tried to get ahead of a growing crowd of dangerously deep potholes. The workers fled as the food truck skidded past, scattering cones. It tilted on two wheels, then overcorrected, fishtailing. It looked as if the driver would regain control, but then he hit one of the unfilled potholes. The top-heavy truck lurched to the right and veered across the bike path. The driver bailed out as the truck tore through a copse of trees and rolled into the Ala Wai Canal.

It landed on its shoulder, the entire cab submerged in the water. The racing waters tugged at the truck, trying to sweep it away, but the undercarriage was fouled on a broken tree that anchored it to the embankment. The rear door gaped open, but the Five-0 men couldn't see the woman inside.

The fleeing suspect wavered to his feet and set off at a limping run, slipping and sliding on the wet grass when he turned to fire at his pursuers.

As the Camaro jolted to a halt, each man looked out his window at a situation that couldn't wait.

"I've got the shooter," Steve announced.

"I've got the girl," Danny agreed, as the two men sprang out of the car.

As focused as a hunting greyhound, Steve raced to cut off the suspect.

Danny charged toward the floundering truck, shedding his vest and gun as he ran.

* * *

Hearing sirens approaching, the suspect avoided the road and ran through the thickly wooded, canalside park. Steve smiled tightly. The forest was the SEAL's dominion.

The suspect ducked behind a tree and began shooting at Steve, who took cover behind a tree of his own. The wild shots hit a trashcan, a concrete bench and other trees, but didn't come close to Steve's personal tree.

The commander drew his weapon from the holster on his vest, then put it back. He wanted this guy alive and this time there weren't any innocent bystanders in danger. Steve could take his time.

Calling on his jungle training, Steve faded back into the park landscape and began to silently but swiftly circle the wild-eyed suspect. The man finally mastered his fear and held his fire, looking desperately for a target.

The target was behind him.

"Boo!" Steve shouted, making the man bolt from cover.

Steve took two long strides, then a flying leap, tackling the suspect who splashed face down in a mud puddle. The suspect gurgled, choked and squirmed while Steve tried to handcuff him. Steve finally caught him by the hair and pulled back his head.

"Stop struggling or I'll let you breathe mud until you pass out, then it will be easy to handcuff you. Do you understand?"

The man jerked his head in agreement.

* * *

Danny made a flying leap of his own into the truck's rear door, sliding down the steeply canted, oil-spattered floor to the woman who lay in a crumpled heap against the refrigerator. Darlene had burns on her arms and neck from the hot oil that splashed around the kitchen during the wild chase. The whole truck reeked of it.

Water began to gurgle from the cab into the back of the food truck, pooling around the unconscious woman's head. Hot oil dribbled from the tilted deep fryer, trickling along the counter toward the hissing grill that was still fired up.

"Not good. Not good," Danny complained to himself. He caught Darlene in a fireman's carry and scrambled up the slippery slope to the exit. He teetered there, one foot inside the truck, the other on the sturdy steps of the bumper. On the bank, he saw the cousins running toward the canal, as an EMS ambulance and a patrol car halted at the street. Farther down the street, Steve was hustling the suspect back in their direction.

"Chin!" Danny yelled.

Chin leaned precariously over the rushing waters to take the woman from Danny's arms. Kono twisted her hands in the hem of Chin's shirt and pulled, keeping him from overbalancing. Danny handed Darlene to his friend.

Chin carried her away from the water's edge, meeting paramedics Ab Riley and Margrette Chandler on the bike path.

Kono stayed to help Danny. Before he could jump to safety, the tree trunk cracked and the half-drowned truck lurched. Danny started to slide back inside, but caught the edge of the door.

The shift sent a wave of oil splashing onto the propane-fueled grill. It flared up and suddenly the whole oil-doused kitchen was on fire. In a flooding canal, in a driving rainstorm, the food truck burst into flames — and Danny along with it.

**TBC**

_A/N: That's the meanest cliffie yet!_


	16. Fire and Water

**Chapter 16 — Fire and Water**

"Danny!" Kono screamed.

Surrounded by flames, Danny again tried to jump for the safety of the bank, but the pull of the river finally broke the tree trunk anchor. The truck swirled out into the canal as the propane ignited.

The explosion threw Danny into the floodwaters.

Out of the frying pan and into the blender.

The water doused the detective's burning shirt, but the blast left him dazed and uncoordinated. The torrent spun him around and under. Though Danny could swim well, the swirling, rushing water was moving too fast. Too fast even for a Navy SEAL to dare.

"Danny!"

Appalled by his friend's peril, Steve threw his suspect at a newly arrived patrol officer, then ran down the bank. He waded out as far as he dared, but had to stop when the current almost swept him from his feet.

All the time he was calling his friend, urging him to swim for the bank. (This was the first step in swiftwater rescue.) Danny could have made it under normal conditions, Steve was sure; but now he was just floundering, shaking his head in confusion, while the water whirled and pummeled him.

Danny didn't see his friend as he spun past, couldn't hear him over the roar of the water.

Steve galloped up the bank, leaving a wake behind him. Chin and Kono met him at the Camaro.

"We have to catch him the other side of the bridge!" Chin yelled. "After that, it's steep walls clear to the harbor!"

Kono threw herself into the backseat and didn't even have time to sit upright before Steve sent the car racing down the street, siren screaming, lights flashing in the grille.

Another siren blared behind them.

"Riley's on our six," Kono reported, looking back. "He left Chandler with Darlene."

Steve spun left as he reached the bridge, sending the Camaro down the bike path. Branches scratched the car's silver sides. A warning sign thwanged off the side mirror.

They passed their friend, who had been carried well out into the center of the current.

Steve and Chin were focused on the path ahead, looking for the best rescue spot; but Kono kept her eyes on Danny.

"He saw us!" she reported excitedly. "He saw us, he's aiming at this bank. He's swimming better."

"But he's running out of space," Chin said with calm focus.

A little ways ahead, the green banks of the canal rose into concrete walls to protect nearby businesses. They had to catch Danny before he got that far.

"One chance," Steve muttered mostly to himself. "Just one chance."

They stopped the Camaro as close to the bank as they dared. Steve pulled a long, neatly coiled rope from the trunk. He snapped a rescue harness on the end and buckled himself into it, then he launched himself into the canal, trusting Chin to take care of the other end.

"Here," Riley said, patting the tow hitch on his EMS ambulance.

Chin tied off the rope with a neat nautical knot. He and Riley grasped the rope, preventing it from kinking, paying it out to Steve as he swam.

Kono ran down the bank until she could see Danny. He was swimming weakly but doggedly, aiming toward the bank at an angle.

As his surfing teacher, Kono had seen Danny in the water many times. She could tell he wasn't swimming as strongly as usual. A trace of red at his temple caught light.

He's hurt, she thought to herself. "Danny, keep swimming! Steve's coming out to you!" she shouted as loud as she could.

Danny broke his rhythm to wave, then continued swimming for the canal bank. He kept his head up, looking for his rescuers.

Kono ran back to the others. "He heard me. He knows we're here."

"There!" Riley pointed as Danny came into view.

The three on the bank shouted, drawing the attention of both men in the water. They pointed at Danny. With powerful kicks, Steve thrust himself high out of the water. He glimpsed his friend and swam toward him.

Chin, Kono and Riley shouted to Danny, encouraging him to keep swimming toward the bank. The current seemed to run faster here. Steve was powering through the water like a torpedo, but Danny was rushing past, closer to the bank than they had expected. Steve had gone out too far.

Kono clenched her fists. "Steve's not going to get there!"

Chin calmly hauled in on the safety line, taking up the slack without fouling the SEAL.

Kono gasped as Steve lunged to catch Danny and missed by a hair's breadth, then she gasped again when Danny put out his hands and caught something in the water. He jolted to a stop, gasping and sputtering when the rush of water dunked him under.

"Oh! The rope!" Kono realized. Because it was hidden beneath the surface of the canal, she'd forgotten the line stretched between the bank and Steve, a safety line for Steve, a safety net for Danny.

Steve lunged again, wrapping his arms around his partner.

"Pull!" Chin and Riley said together. Hand-over-hand they reeled in their friends, while Kono waded into the shallows to help the men out.

Danny was unsteady, but Steve and Kono kept him on his feet. Blood trickled from a gash on his temple. It mixed with the water on his face, turning his visage into a gruesome mask. The falling rain tried to wash it away, but the cut bled freely, as head wounds will, continually renewing the gore. The exhausted man staggered and would have fallen, but Steve swept him up in his arms.

"Ouch," Danny complained weakly when his friend's grip pressed on his burned back. "I am not your bride, McGarrett, no matter what people say,"

Steve chuckled. If Danny was complaining, he couldn't be too badly hurt. "Not my bride," Steve agreed. "Just my comrade, wounded in the line of duty," he said as dramatically as he could deliver the line.

Danny thought for a second. "OK, I can buy that," he said wearily. His eyes closed and his head lolled against his partner's shoulder.

"Danny!"

Riley threw a blanket on the soggy ground and opened his kit. Steve lowered Danny to the blanket and stood over him, acting as an awning to keep the rain out of Danny's face.

The paramedic thought Danny looked pale and his skin felt clammy, but that was only to be expected when he'd been floating in the canal.

Riley quickly checked Danny's vitals, finding his heartbeat strong but fast and his blood pressure low. Riley ripped open an antiseptic wipe, rubbed Danny's arm vigorously to get rid of any canal crud, and started an IV.

"Get me another blanket," he ordered.

Kono found one in the Camaro's trunk, a pink fuzzy one that must have been left by Grace. She wouldn't mind if Kono got it dirty to help Danno. Kono spread it over Danny and huddled next to him, rubbing his arms to warm him up.

"Come on, brah. Open those baby blues," she encouraged.

Danny stirred and squinted up at her in confusion. Steve knelt beside him, still blocking the rain, and squeezed his friend's shoulder. "Don't scare us like that, partner," he chided fondly.

Riley checked his blood pressure and nodded at the improvement.

"This looks more familiar," Riley said as he bent over Danny, who huffed a mere breath of a laugh.

Riley checked him over, examining the cut on Danny's head and flashed the penlight in Danny's eyes.

Danny batted at it in annoyance. "That hurts, you know," he said, sounding more like himself by the minute.

"Headache?"

"Like someone's hammering at my skull," Danny confirmed. "Something hit me when I went into the water, or I hit something. Didn't know where I was for a minute."

"Probably a minor concussion," Riley told him. "But the pupil response looks good."

"He passed out," Steve said anxiously.

"Syncope is not unusual in cases of extreme exertion," Riley answered. He'd have used "fainting" instead of the technical term, but he didn't want to trivialize the real danger Danny had escaped. Remembering the explosion, Riley asked about burns.

"Back hurts," Danny said shortly. "Like a really bad sunburn."

"Sit up; let me see."

Steve helped his pal lean forward. The muddy canal water made it hard to see the oily scorch marks on Danny's abused shirt. Riley gently tugged the wet fabric free and took a peek beneath the shirttail.

"First degree burns," he confirmed. "We'd better let them deal with that at the hospital. Not the best conditions for keeping burns clean," Riley apologized.

Danny started to answer, but a coughing fit interrupted his words. Riley pulled his stethoscope out of his pocket and pressed it to Danny's chest.

"Do that again," the paramedic ordered.

Danny glared, but coughed. His voluntary cough quickly became an involuntary cough. "It's nothing. I just swallowed a little water," Danny said, when he got his breathing under control.

Riley grinned in reassurance. "I think you'll last until we can get you to the hospital," he said cheerfully. "Now I've got to get back to Margie. Danny is coming with me. And the rest of you … don't you have a suspect to question or something?"

Danny fussed about going to the hospital, for the second time that week. Riley patted his shoulder.

"At least you've had all your shots already."

* * *

Chin helped Danny climb onto the gurney in the ambulance out of the dwindling rain, while Riley coordinated with Chandler. Danny had to admit lying down felt good (except for his burning back) and the oxygen mask was pushing away the gray of exhaustion that had been hovering at the edges of his vision.

But something was missing. His partner was no longer standing over him, micromanaging. Tilting his head, Danny could see Steve rubbing his wet head with a towel and rubbing and rubbing. The slow scrubbing motion, slumped shoulders and the fact that his back was turned toward his injured partner told the detective everything he needed to know.

Danny put out a hand and tapped Chin's knee.

Need something Danny?" Chin asked in concern.

Danny pulled down the oxygen mask. "Go tell Steve I said, 'Shut up. He's giving me a complex.'"

Chin saw the slumped shoulders, too, and went immediately to his boss. "Why did Danny just tell me to tell you to shut up?"

The guilt in Steve's expression enlightened Chin. "It's my fault Danny got hurt," Steve confessed. "This case seemed so lightweight, pickpockets, identity theft — food trucks! Our takedown of the Dipping Crew was almost comical! I screwed up. I assumed we wouldn't have any trouble and now we have two dead men and five people on the way to the hospital, including Danny! I should have remembered the scar on Darlene's arm and how terrified the pickpockets were before they found out we were cops. I should have remembered Moriarty is ruthless."

"None of the rest of us considered the danger either," Chin pointed out.

"But I'm in command."

"Go talk to your partner," Chin ordered, pointing at the ambulance. If anyone could relieve Steve's funk, it was Danny.

"Danny, I'm sorry," Steve said as he climbed in the back of the bus.

"No, no, no, you don't get to feel guilty when you just saved me from a raging river!"

"It's a canal," Steve corrected automatically.

Danny glared at Steve, which, oddly, made the commander feel better. "Was it raging?" the detective demanded.

"Well, it's not class five rapids, but, yes, it's running dangerously high," Steve admitted, his lips flirting with a smile that Danny was glad to see.

"Then, you admit you rescued me from a perilous situation, so why feel guilty?"

Steve made the same confession he'd made to Chin.

"Well, that just proves clairvoyance isn't one of SuperSEAL's superpowers. You'll have to settle for leaping buildings in a single bound and flying out of airplanes to catch falling skydivers."

Evading his partner's penetrating, sympathetic gaze, Steve's eyes rested on the other members of his team standing outside the ambulance.

"Are you two all right?" he asked.

Chin realized he was absently rubbing the point of his left shoulder while Kono was scrubbing her forearms, letting the rain wash off streaks of rusty red.

"Bleeding?" Danny asked, the concern in his voice only slightly muted by the oxygen mask.

"No, brah, it's not mine," Kono said. Her words were reassuring but her tone was distant.

It took her a moment to realize the three guys were still watching her from their various perspectives.

"The guy I shot was bleeding out. I must have hit the femoral artery. I didn't mean … I mean, I've killed before, but I was trying to not kill this one and his blood was shooting out..." She went back to rubbing her hands.

"And what happened to you, Chin?" Steve asked. If one thing could distract Kono from her distress, it was concern for her cousin. Her eyes focused on his shoulder, where a bullet had torn the vest's shoulder padding.

"Chin! What happened?"

"The goon I killed just wouldn't give up," Chin answered calmly. He didn't regret killing Spike to save Simon and Darren (and himself). "He shot me, but the bullet just clipped the vest."

"Let me see!" demanded Steve, Riley and Kono in unison. Danny huffed a laugh that made the oxygen mask fog up. Chin rolled his eyes but complied. He stripped off the torn vest and unbuttoned enough of his Hawaiian shirt to bare his left shoulder.

"See?" A small bruise was beginning to form on the top of his shoulder. Two inches to the left and the bullet would have missed Chin entirely. Of course, four inches to the right and it would have gone through his neck.

"Close," Steve said.

"Too close," Kono added, hugging her cousin tightly.

"But no cigar," Riley reminded them. He tugged Chin's shirt into place, tucking the collar under Kono's unyielding embrace. "OK, all of you out of my way. I've got to take Danny to get checked out." The EMT pointed at Steve. "And you need to stop dripping in my ambulance. It's unsanitary."

"Sir, yes sir!" the Navy man answered. He leaped out and gave Riley a crisp salute. "But doesn't someone need to stay in back with Danny while you drive?"

Riley's mouth opened, then closed. It was true. Regulations prohibited leaving Danny alone back there. But more than regulations, the patient's safety was involved. If the concussion or near drowning were worse than Riley thought, Danny could have an episode unnoticed in the back.

The EMT combed back his hair with his fingers. "OK, I'll stay in the back with Danny, because I'm the trained medical professional. Chin, will you drive the ambulance back to Margie, please?"

"What about me?" Steve demanded, because it was his observation and he'd never driven an ambulance before.

"No," Riley said firmly. "I've seen you drive."

Chin drove away cautiously, leaving Steve and Kono standing beside the Camaro.

"He shouldn't talk," Steve grumbled. "Riley kept up with me and he was driving an ambulance!"

* * *

Five-0 had locked up their captured goon in a holding cell, making sure he knew it was McGarrett who'd captured him. They figured he'd stew better than Simon had.

Steve showered off the canal water and dressed in his uniform — the only clean clothes left in his locker. Danny's locker was bare, so Steve raided his own laundry duffle, finding a mismatched jumble of workout clothes; then he went to beg shoes from Chin.

* * *

Kono was compiling evidence on the smart table when a woman entered the office. She was dressed in a neat business suit with a skirt and an incongruous pair of running shoes and a beach bag which, Kono deduced, probably contained her good shoes. When she pulled back the hood of her raincoat, Kono froze like a deer in the headlights.

"Hi, Kono, is Danny available?" asked Danny's girlfriend, Gabrielle Asano.

**TBC**

_A/N: Oh oh. How will they tell Gabby? That's a different kind of cliffie!_


	17. A Night at the Hospital

_Avatar and cover photo are still the Ala Wai Canal._

**Chapter 17 — A Night at the Hospital**

"Uh, Gabby, hi," Kono said with artificial brightness. "Was Danny expecting you?" she stalled, hoping Steve would come back to be the bearer of bad news.

"No, I had a Museum Association meeting across the street," Gabby said. She worked for the Bishop Museum and the Iolani Palace museum was across the street from Five-0 HQ. "I saw Danny's car in the parking lot and I thought he might give me a ride home," she said with a twinkle in her eye that promised more than shuttle service. "But if he's busy, I can take The Bus."

One of the many things Danny liked about Gabby was that she was an undemanding woman. After all his struggles with Rachel, Gabby was a sweet respite from anxiety.

Steve came in from the locker room saying, "OK, I found a couple of things for Danny to wear." He froze when he saw Gabby.

She had only been a cop's girl for a couple of months, but she was a quick study.

"What? What's happened?" she asked anxiously.

"Danny's-in-the-hospital-but-he's-OK," Kono said quickly, so Gabby would hear the "OK" part as soon as the "hospital" part.

"Hospital? You're sure he's OK?"

"Yes, he's just getting checked out. He fell in the canal, but we fished him out." Steve tried for casual humor, so Gabby wouldn't worry, but Kono shot him a black look for belittling Danny in front of his girlfriend.

"Boss, you make him sound like a keiki who got too close to the edge," she chided. "A truck — one of those food trucks — crashed in the Ala Wai Canal. Danny jumped in the back to rescue a woman. He got her out but there was an explosion and it knocked Danny into the water. Steve dove in and pulled him out." Because Steve deserved his props, too.

"He'd have probably made it out by himself," Steve said. "He was almost at the shore."

Gabby had seen the Ala Wai running high and fast with all the rain. She threw her arms around Steve and mumbled "thank you" into his uniformed chest. He gave her a quick hug, embarrassed because they hardly knew each other. Equally embarrassed, Gabby pulled back and tried to smooth the crease she'd made in the Navy uniform.

"They're the only dry clothes I have left, too," he answered the unspoken question, then wondered if he'd outed Danny for their previous brush with murky death.

But Gabby nodded. "We talked on the phone last night. He told me the two of you had to pull a paramedic out of a sinkhole. He made it sound pretty funny — mostly he complained about ruining his clothes — but I could tell it was more dangerous than he let on."

"It had its moments," Steve admitted. "But looking back on it, it just seems ridiculous."

"I knew he was OK then, because he was talking to me. I wish he'd called me today," Gabby said wistfully.

"I'm sure he wanted to," Chin said, entering the room and the conversation. "But …" He tipped the cell phone in his hand and a dribble of water ran onto the folded towel he held. "Danny's phone," he explained. "And he's probably not in a room yet, because we brought in a burn victim and three gunshot victims at the same time. Pretty much swamped the ER. Danny wasn't nearly as badly hurt as those patients, so he knew he was going to have to wait."

"I didn't like leaving him alone," Kono said. "But Chin had suspects to book and Steve was dripping mud all over the clean hospital floor, so they chased him out." Her eyes twinkled. "I offered to stay, but Danny said 'no.'"

The two men snorted. "Danny was going to have to strip down because of his wet clothes and flash burns on his back," Chin explained to Gabby.

Kono pretended to pout. "He said he wasn't a Chippendale's dancer; so he wasn't putting on a show for me."

Gabby felt relieved. If Danny's best friends were making jokes, he really couldn't be badly hurt. "It is a nice show," Gabby told Kono, girl to girl. "But I have an exclusive."

Steve shuddered. "I did NOT need to hear that. Chin, you got those slippers?"

The lieutenant handed over a pair of what Danny would call flip-flops.

Steve asked Gabby if she wanted a ride to the hospital and they left together.

* * *

At the hospital, Steve tracked down his partner in an examining room. He rapped on the door.

"Danny, you decent?" He peeked around the corner in time to see his partner lying on his stomach on an examination table. Danny's back and shoulders were bare, showing red blotches like a patchy sunburn. A nurse pulled a sheet up to cover his bare buttocks. Danny glared in the direction of his partner's smirk.

"A little privacy," Danny suggested.

"Sorry," Steve said, not sounding sorry at all. "I brought you something dry to wear," he added, waving a paper bag full of the clothes he'd scrounged up in the locker room.

"Thanks, Danny said in relief. "They haven't even brought me a paper gown, yet!"

"That's because we were enjoying the view," the nurse said with a mischievous grin.

"Count yourself lucky. I don't bare it all for everyone," Danny told her.

"You're lucky your jeans protected that nice tushie," she said, patting his behind, "Or sitting down would be painful," she added.

"The back will be bad enough," Danny said sourly. "It'll burn, then it'll itch and then it'll peel."

"Most likely," the nurse agreed. "But at least it won't require skin grafts."

Danny agreed that was a plus, as she scooped a pile of sodden clothes out of the sink into a plastic bin and set it on a chair.

"Seriously, you need to lie there for ten minutes and let the ointment dry. Then we'll move you into a room for the night," the nurse said.

"I don't need that," Danny grumbled, but there was no point arguing with the nurse. It was the doctor who had decreed he needed to stay overnight for observation.

"Are you all right?" Steve asked.

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. "You know the drill. Possible concussion. Near drowning. They want to pester me all night to see if there are any aftereffects." He coughed.

"And there aren't any?" Steve asked doubtfully.

"I'm waiting to hear about the X-rays, but the doc said the lungs sounded OK and my headache is no worse than the ones you give me weekly."

"What about the burns?" Steve asked the nurse. The image of his partner flaming across the sky like a comet was a frightening memory.

"His clothing protected him from the worst of it," she said in reassurance. "He has two small second-degree burns on his neck." Until Danny lifted the hair at the nape of his neck, Steve hadn't noticed the small, flesh-colored bandages. "The others are first degree burns. Treat them the same as sunburn. I'll get you some lotion to take home." She bustled out of the room.

The patient regarded his friend's neat tan uniform.

"Now I really feel underdressed," he groused. Still lying on his stomach, Danny peeked into the bag Steve had delivered. "You just had to bring sweats and flip-flops."

"Your locker was empty. You used your spares after the pit business and you haven't replaced them yet. I borrowed the slippers from Chin."

"Note to self," Danny sighed. "Leave complete changes of clothing stashed around the island in strategic locations, hospitals in particular." Then more seriously, he added, "Thanks for the rescue, partner."

"Got to keep up on my SEAL qualifications," Steve joked. "Hey, I brought a visitor for you."

"Here? Now?" Danny said, gesturing at his compromising position.

"I don't think she'll mind," Steve answered mischievously.

"She…?" Danny started to protest, then he saw Gabby peeking around the door uncertainly. A pleased smile blossomed on Danny's face.

"Hey, babe. Did Steve call you? I was going to, but I've been a little preoccupied." Danny's habitual gestures were hindered by his prone position.

Gabby and Steve told him about Gabby's unexpected visit to Five-0.

"We were in a panic," Steve admitted. "We didn't know what to say."

Danny's warm gaze comforted his girl. "I'm sorry you were worried. You can see I'm all right now."

"I'm sorry to barge in," Gabby said, wondering if Danny was uncomfortable with visitors while he was in such a vulnerable state.

"Nothing you haven't seen, babe," Danny joked without thinking about the other person in the room. Steve gave them a salacious grin. "Mind out of the gutter, McGarrett," Danny reproved. "We've been to the beach … with Grace," he added as his clincher that their date was chaste. But he and Gabby shared a smirk behind Steve's back.

"Listen, I'm going to check on our pickpockets," Steve said. "I'll be back in awhile." The third wheel rolled away.

Gabby gave Danny an awkward but loving sideways kiss, then studied his patchwork shoulders and the bandage on his temple. "Does it hurt?"

"The back? Not much since she put the lotion on. And it was only like a sunburn before that. Headache bothers me the most, but it's not awful stabbing pains. It's just a headache. I got off lucky," he admitted. He tightened his fingers around her hand. "Thanks for coming."

"I was worried. Have you called Grace? She'll be worried if she sees it on the news." Gabby pulled out her cell phone as she spoke.

Danny gave her a meltingly sweet smile that made her knees weak. The fond smile stayed on his face when a young voice answered the call.

"Aunt Gabby?" It made Danny happy to know that Grace had programmed Gabby's number into her phone and thought of her as "Aunt Gabby."

"Hey, monkey. It's just me. I had to borrow Gabby's phone because mine got wet."

"Danno! How did your phone get wet?"

"Well, I kinda fell in the Ala Wai Canal," Danny confessed. "But Steve fished me out, so no harm done, except to my phone, and my shoes, and my clothes."

Grace giggled at the ultrapathetic tone Danny adopted.

Gabby bent close to the phone, lips inches from Danny's (and don't think she wasn't aware of it). "Don't let him fool you, Grace. Your father was a hero. He rescued a lady from a burning truck."

Grace wasn't a stupid child. "Daddy, are you in the hospital again?" she said in a quiet voice, so her mother in the next room couldn't hear.

"Yes, I am, but I'll be home tomorrow. They just want to keep an eye on me overnight because I banged my head when I fell."

"Put the phone next to your sore head," Grace instructed. Danny did and heard a loud, smacking kiss.

"Thanks, monkey, that does make it feel better," the doting father said. "I've got to go, Grace, but I wanted you to know I'm OK."

"Get better soon, Danno. Love you."

"Love you more," Danny said. He hung up and handed the phone back to Gabby. He pulled her in for a quick kiss. "Thanks, babe."

Before she could reply, there was a knock on the door and a stranger came in, a stranger in handcuffs! Gabby moved in front of Danny in automatic defense but he squeezed her hand in reassurance.

"Darren," Danny greeted the pickpocket.

"Detective." Embarrassed by his intrusion, Darren averted his eyes from Danny and spoke to the wall. "I wanted to thank you for saving Darlene's life."

"That's what he does," Gabby answered proudly, seeing that Danny's modesty prevented him from giving a quick answer.

"It was our plan, our mistake. I couldn't let your sister suffer for that. I'm sorry she and Simon got hurt," Danny told Darren. "How are they?"

"I haven't heard yet. The fella Officer Kay shot died on the table. No great loss," he said angrily. "Reese was the one who slashed Darlene's arm." He didn't seem to have any more to say, but he showed no signs of leaving. Danny raised his eyebrows at him. "Something else?"

"Commander McGarrett told me to wait in here and stay out of the way."

"He did?" Danny said dangerously. If this was Steve's idea of a joke, Danny was going to punch him.

But now that their attention was drawn to it, Danny and Gabby could hear a commotion in the halls of the emergency room. "What's happening?"

"Car ran a red light, skidded in the rain and T-boned a city bus," Darren replied. "No fatalities, but a lot of injuries and broken bones. The commander didn't want me to take advantage of the uproar to try to escape."

"Would you?" Danny asked quietly.

Darren met his eyes. "That's my sister in there. And Simon, he's my best friend, better than a brother."

"Yeah, I know how that goes," Danny answered.

"I'm not running out on them," Darren said.

"All right, but don't think we can't stop you if you act up," Danny warned. "I'm not incapacitated and Dr. Asano is fierce."

The museum director gave Darren the look that quelled entire classes of unruly teenagers, the "If I see that cell phone again, it's going home with me" look. Darren's legs folded and dropped him into a chair.

Gabby nodded once in satisfaction, though she was unsatisfied that her tender talk with Danny had been curtailed.

The door opened again with a perfunctory knock. Danny rolled his eyes when Dr. Max Bergman entered, carrying a pineapple of all things.

"Wrong room," Danny sang out.

Max paused, bemused. "No," he said cautiously. "I heard you were injured, so I came to visit."

"That was a joke, Max, because you're a medical examiner," Danny explained kindly. He sometimes thought he needed to start a class, Mammal-to-Mammal Interaction 101.

The assistant medical examiner brightened. "Ah, because usually I do not visit live patients, very clever, Detective Williams. Very quick." He nodded appreciation. "Indeed, I am here to pick up, ah, Commander McGarrett's latest gift." He raised his eyebrows in a question.

"Not bad," Danny judged. "Perfectly acceptable black humor for a police officer like me, but maybe a little strong for the rest of the audience." He gestured at Gabby and Darren. "You remember Gabby, don't you?"

"Dr. Asano, so nice to see you again. I hope my attempt at humor did not offend you. Or you, sir," he added to Darren.

"No problem here. I'll throw confetti while you load the bodies," Darren growled.

"The bad guys hurt his sister and brother-in-law. They're in surgery now," Danny explained when Max looked bewildered again.

"Oh, I am very sorry to hear that," Max said with honest sympathy. "I hope I do not get your family members as customers."

That might have been a little raw, but Darren understood the odd little man was expressing genuine compassion. The pickpocket politely thanked him for his concern.

When Max just stood there beaming, holding his pineapple, Danny tried to restart the conversation. "So, Max, what's with the pineapple?"

"Oh! It's a gift for you." Max stepped forward and handed it to Gabby, since Danny couldn't take it while lying on his stomach.

"A pineapple?"

"Yes, well, I did not feel comfortable buying flowers for you but the other traditional gift for someone in the hospital is fresh fruit, so …" He gestured at the pineapple.

Danny could not prevent his hand from covering his face.

"Is something wrong?" Max said anxiously.

"No, it's just … people usually bring fruit that the patient can eat without needing a machete to open it."

For the first time Max really seemed to look at the pineapple. He deflated. "Oh."

"No, babe, it's fine," Danny said hastily, because he didn't want to hurt the ME's feelings. "I'm going home tomorrow, so we can open it this weekend at McGarrett's house. I'm sure he's got a nice selection of machetes in a range of sizes and colors to suit all occasions."

Max was happy again. "Then it's OK? Because Commander McGarrett said you didn't like pineapple, but I thought it was a joke."

"I don't like pineapple on pizza, hotdogs or hamburgers. But as a fruit, it's perfect."

Without a semblance of a knock, the door swung open, admitting Steve, a uniformed HPD officer and a strange, rather bewildered doctor.

Still lying on his stomach, Danny hid his head under his arms. "Are the Marx Brothers in the closet?" he muttered to Gabby, who giggled. She loved "A Night at the Opera."

Steve ignored the eye daggers his partner flung at him and addressed Darren. "Simon's out of surgery." The commander pushed the young doctor forward.

"The surgery went well," the doctor said. "The hand wasn't as badly damaged as we feared. Two fingers are broken and a lot of skin was torn off, causing the bleeding. I believe, with diligent physical therapy, he will regain a useful range of motion with it."

"Good enough to chop vegetables?" Darren asked, getting a nod in return.

"Probably not good enough to pick pockets," Steve advised.

Darren waved that away with a two-handed, handcuffed gesture. "That will be good enough for us. Maybe that will protect us from others who want us to do their dirty work for them. Any word about Darlene?" he asked anxiously.

"She's been treated for first and second degree burns on her arms, neck and torso," the doctor said, consulting a chart because the woman wasn't his patient. "She's been moved into a room and we'll put her husband in there with her after he gets out of recovery."

"The officer will take you to see Darlene now," Steve said.

Darren stood instantly. "Thank you again, detective."

A firm rapping sounded on the door and Danny's doctor and nurse came in. The doctor blinked to see such a crowd.

Danny'd had enough. He rolled to a seated position, wrapping the sheet around his waist like a Polynesian sarong skirt. (And wouldn't his broad shoulders and muscular calves look good in that costume, Gabby thought.)

"What is this, Grand Central Station?" Danny demanded in aggravation. He looked at Darren. "Go, take care of your family." Danny pointed at Steve. "You, go and question our suspect. Max, go collect your body. And the rest of you, just go!" To Gabby he added, "Not you, babe. Please stay while I talk to the doc."

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: If you don't know the stateroom scene from the Marx Brothers movie "A Night at the Opera," you should look it up. I know it's on YouTube.  
And just as a hint of what to look forward to next time, the next chapter is called "Q&A McGarrett style"_


	18. Q&A McGarrett Style

_**A/N: I'm in for a bear of a week with a special project due tomorrow and twice as much regular work because a coworker is out for surgery. So I need some review love to brighten my week.  
My cover and avatar photos are still the Ala Wai Canal, which plays a part again in this chapter.**_

**Chapter 18 — Q&A McGarrett Style**

"I'll wait for you outside," Steve told Gabby and closed the door behind the crowd. The examining room seemed much more spacious with only four people in it.

"Sorry it took so long to get back to you, Detective Williams," his doctor apologized, but we had a crisis out there. Your scans were negative. I'd like to keep you overnight as a precaution, but you should be able to go home tomorrow morning. Try to rest for the next two days. I'll give you a prescription for extra strength Tylenol for your headache, but come back if it doesn't improve or if it gets worse."

"Doc, I need to be out of here early tomorrow," Danny said firmly. "Either you're here to release me or I'll walk out. It could be a matter of life or death."

Impressed by Danny's sincerity, the doctor agreed to check him over first thing in the morning. The doctor left instructions and more lotion for the burns and then he left Danny and Gabby alone — finally!

"Watch out, I'm getting dressed," Danny warned.

"Do you want me to help or turn my back?" Gabby asked, dimples showing.

"Whatever floats your boat, babe," Danny answered with a wink.

He turned his back and pulled up the sweatpants, which obviously belonged to Steve, the way they bagged around his ankles. He slipped on the flip-flops, which were too long fore and aft, but at least kept his feet off the bare floor. He left off the shirt, because cloth rubbing on his burned back was uncomfortable.

Gabby stepped up and gently kissed one of the less red patches on his back. "Poor shoulder," she said.

Danny spun and caught her in an embrace before she could escape, not that she wanted to. She put her head on his shoulder. (It was only burned on the back.)

"Do me a favor, babe?" he asked.

"Bring you some real clothes?" she giggled, looking down at the puddle of cloth draped over his feet.

"That's part of it," he agreed and explained exactly what he wanted and where to find it. (His garments were half in boxes still because of his frequent moves this year.)

"You're sure?" she said.

"I'm sure."

"And you're all right?"

"Yes, honest."

"All right, I'll collect everything and be back tonight before visiting hours end," Gabby promised. "And I'll wash these for you," she added, gesturing at the tub of soggy clothes.

"You don't have to."

"You saved a woman's life today. The least I can do is a load of laundry." She looked at the overall mud color of the clothes. "Though it may take two or three. Starting with the garden hose, I think."

"Good call."

"And do you want me to take care of that pineapple, too?"

"You're the best," Danny said fondly. "And one more thing, can I borrow your cell phone for tonight?"

Gabby handed it over. "Try not to get it wet!" She caressed his cheek. "And try not to get hurt again."

"No promises," Danny said. "Not when I'm hanging out with McGarrett, but I'll try. I always try. I don't like hospitals!"

Gabby kissed him, a gentle kiss that promised more in the future. A pounding on the door made them jump apart, as if they'd done something wrong.

"Sure, now he knocks!" Danny grumbled, as Steve loudly asked if they were decent, because the nurse was waiting. (Steve didn't mind embarrassing Danny, but he didn't want to embarrass Gabby.)

"Come in, pest," Danny answered.

Steve entered along with the nurse with a wheelchair to take Danny to his room. With a long-suffering sigh, Danny seated himself and allowed himself to be rolled out. Gabby found out his room number, promised to return and watched him being wheeled away.

She turned to the handsome man in uniform beside her. Steve offered to carry her wet and prickly burden. "Doctor."

"Commander," she answered, handing him the plastic tub. They left the hospital together, each thinking about his or her mission for later.

* * *

After dropping Gabby off, Steve went home and changed out of his uniform, because he wanted the Navy to have no part of what he intended to do. Dressed in a more ominous dark T-shirt and black cargo pants — and carrying two (two!) changes of clothes for his locker at HQ — he left Danny's car and drove his equally dark and ominous pickup back to Five-0.

He briefed Chin and Kono on his intentions, then, fueled with the memory of Simon's ruined hand, of Darlene's blistered arms and, most of all, of Danny's bloody, drooping head, McGarrett dragged the goon out of his holding cell and frog-marched him to the back of the Silverado.

"We've identified this lolo, Commander McGarrett," Kono said, emphasizing Steve's name because the pickpockets had said the goons had a superstitious fear of the Five-0 chief. "His name is Ricky Moon."

"His name..." Steve growled. "... is mud." He shoved his face in the goon's and gave a shark's toothy grin. "Literally, mud."

Walking calmly beside the man Steve was dragging along, Chin shook his head. "You should not have hurt his partner."

"But I didn't!" Moon sputtered.

"You crashed the truck. That led to Detective Williams getting hurt. Your fault, brah, all the way," Kono said cheerfully, almost skipping along on Moon's other side.

"Hey, calm down, kid," Chin told his cousin fondly.

"But I'm so excited," Kono giggled. "We don't usually get to see the boss' – er – creativity."

"Creativity?" Moon asked fearfully.

No one answered him. Steve tossed Moon in the back of the pickup as if he was a rag doll, and the 5-11, 300-pound enforcer was no lightweight. Steve handcuffed him to a cargo ring, snarled "Mud!" once more and drove out into the rain with Chin and Kono following in the Traverse.

"Don't you think you were a little over the top?" Chin asked.

"Too giggly?" Kono asked. "I think Ricky liked it."

"No, I don't think he liked it at all," Chin said reflectively. The cousins shared a grin.

* * *

Steve drove back to the Ala Wai Canal and parked on the bridge across it. Chin parked behind him, flashers warning traffic aside. There were few people out at this time of night in the persistent rain. Most cars hurried past, assuming that either one vehicle was disabled and the other had stopped to help or the two vehicles had been in a fender-bender. In either case, help was already at hand and no one felt the need to stop, or even look closely.

Which was just as well, because if they'd looked closely, they'd have seen Steve tying a rope to the bridge railing and checking to see it was fastened tight. He brought the soaked, handcuffed prisoner out and made him sit on the railing. Shaking rain from his eyes, Moon cast anxious glances down at the dark water rushing past below, made just visible by the lights on the bridge.

Steve knelt in front of him, tying his ankles together with the rope.

"What are you doing?" Moon asked.

"You are 5-11, right?" Chin asked. "And 300 pounds? Because it makes a difference."

"A difference? In what?"

"Relax, brah, tourists pay good money for this," Kono said cheerfully. She sent a glance at the water below. "Boss, you did adjust for the flood waters, didn't you? The canal looks like it's running a little higher than usual."

Steve just shrugged. "What's a few inches?" he said, and casually shoved Moon backwards off the bridge.

It wasn't a high bridge. The goon didn't even have time for a good scream, before the bungee cord stopped his fall, stretching just enough to dip Moon's face in the water before retracting on the rebound. The goon coughed and sputtered as the canal doused his cry. He found himself dangling head down just above the rushing water, which sounded really loud and dangerous from inches away, but not loud enough to drown the conversation from above.

The three Five-0 officers nonchalantly leaned against the railing looking down.

"I'm not sure you thought this out, Steve," Chin said judiciously. "How are we going to get him back up?"

"Wasn't planning to," Steve growled for Moon's benefit, though he grinned at Chin. "I thought I'd just drop him and let him swim ashore."

"With his hands cuffed and his feet tied?" Kono asked, just for information, not as if she was complaining.

"That might make it more difficult," Steve allowed. He reached over and jiggled the bungee cord, making Moon bounce and dipping his scalp in the water again. "You want to tell me about Moriarty? Make it worth my while to pull you up? Or shall I just cut you loose?"

"Please," Moon begged. "I'll tell you anything. I'll tell you everything!"

Steve and Chin pulled him up, hand-over-hand on the cord, then hauling on his pants and shirt until they got him upright on the bridge. The dirty canal water had turned his dark hair brown and ran in streaks down his face. Steve wiped away a trickle with one finger and showed the dark stain to Moon. "I told you – mud!" he said gleefully.

"Now, we're going back to headquarters so we can get out of these raincoats and all get comfortable. Maybe we'll even give you a towel and a hot cup of coffee," Chin told Moon. "But if you change your mind about cooperating, don't forget. The bridge isn't going anywhere!"

* * *

With McGarrett proving to be just as batshit crazy as Moriarty's men had heard, Moon talked and talked and talked. He told them there had been a baker's dozen in the Goon Squad before the food truck fiasco. The rest were all at Moriarty's ranch in Kailua. The ranch had two main buildings, the lavish main house where Moriarty and his lieutenants stayed, and the hotel-worthy bunkhouse where most of the goons lived.

"Will Moriarty be suspicious if you don't come back tonight?" Steve asked.

"No, he didn't expect us until tomorrow," Moon said. "There's some nice hunting and fishing on the ranch and surfing on the beach, but Kailua gets kind of boring and Moriarty won't let us act up in town. Too close to home, he says. So when we come to Honolulu, we spend a night on the town before we go back."

"Beat up a couple of pickpockets and then go clubbing?" Kono asked. "That's cold."

Moon just shrugged. "The boss gives us a day pass, we take it."

"And you put up with this?"

Moon shrugged again. "He pays lavish-like. Gets girls to come in and entertain us. And he's given us big screen TVs and all the latest games."

"Who is this guy?" Steve demanded.

Moon started to shrug again, but Steve's heavy hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I dunno, brah, I mean, sir. He's new, young, like, about my age maybe," the 20-something criminal said. "But smart! Whooo! And generous with the dough. And he likes to listen to us talk about jobs we've done."

"People you've beaten up?" Steve said coldly.

"Uh, yeah," Moon said meekly.

It hardly seemed enough to keep this pack of jackals in line, but Steve remembered that all the missing thugs were in their 20s, which could be a careless, violent age if you weren't brought up right. Though old in mayhem, they were just young men thinking only about self-indulgence and not caring who got hurt.

"All right, I want to know all about the layout of this ranch," Steve instructed. "Every detail."

**TBC**

_**A/N: If I'm calculating right, I have just enough chapters to take us to the Tuesday/Wednesday before Sunset on the Beach, if I keep posting once a week. That's the plan, anyway. See you next week. One week closer to season 3.**_


	19. What the Hail?

_A/N: I plan to change the cover photo to the mountains along the Likelike Highway, assuming I remember._

**Chapter 19 — What the Hail?**

Steve was driving his own truck to Kailua for two reasons. One, he felt guilty driving the Camaro without Danny and, two, he could fit more gear in the pickup bed. After this last week of shootouts and rescues, he was determined to live up to his Boy Scout training and "be prepared"!

Though it was clear for the moment in Honolulu, he had borrowed a shell to protect the gear in the truck bed from the rain expected on the Windward side. Into the covered pickup the Navy man loaded assault weapons, bulletproof vests and a fine selection of grenades. Then he added climbing gear, rope (in three weights!), a winch, an air compressor, a scuba tank and wetsuit, a fire extinguisher, a couple of tarps, two shovels, a chainsaw, an ax, a complete toolbox and an extension ladder.

Chin and SWAT commander Lt. David Akutagawa came over to watch the neat Navy packing.

"Going a little overboard, brah," Chin suggested, when Steve stowed away a crime scene kit, two blankets and, thinking of Danny's wounds, an extra large first aid kit.

"The way this week's been going, whatever I need, I won't have," Steve said glumly. His partner, that's what he didn't have, he thought, even more glumly.

"We've got our van, too," Aku reminded Steve, nodding at the armored vehicle loaded with assault gear, surveillance equipment and six experienced SWAT officers (including Aku). The SWAT guys looked a little odd without their helmets and flak vests, but it was a half hour's drive to Kailua on a good day. They didn't need to gear up yet.

"We can fill the backseat of the beemer, too, if you want," Chin offered, tongue-in-cheek, looking at the gray BMW with the dark tinted windows that had survived the food truck fiasco. He and Kono would be driving that.

For a moment, Steve looked like he was seriously considering it, then shook his head. "We'd better hit the road," he said. He looked around. "Where's Kono?"

"I sent her to get something," Chin said, taking it all on himself if Steve got mad. "She'll be back in a in a minute."

"Here she is now," Aku said, watching the red Cruze pull in.

Kono climbed out and her package exited more gingerly.

"Hey, Oneone!" Aku greeted Danny in delight. Danny didn't mind being called "Sandy" (he'd been called worse) but he often pointed out that it was a silly nickname that contained twice as many syllables as his actual name.

"Aku, hey, buddy how you doing?" Danny came for a handshake, but quickly backed away saying, "No hugs!" when Aku seemed about to get exuberant.

The lieutenant sobered. "I heard you got hurt."

Danny waved the idea away. "It's not bad, as long as you don't slap my back."

"Got it," Aku said, with a crisp salute.

Steve was delighted to see his partner up and around, so, of course, he frowned. "Danny, you shouldn't be here."

"Yes. I should," Danny said firmly. "I'm your partner."

"But you're hurt."

"I'm not hurt, I'm sore," Danny corrected. He heard his own words and realized they were doubly true. "Yes, I'm sore," he repeated. "I'm sore that a couple of criminals who tried to go straight were forced back into a life of crime by a self-titled criminal mastermind and I'm sore that our brilliant plan landed two civilians and two police officers in the hospital. And I'm particularly sore that one of those officers was me. But as far as my injuries go, my back is tender and itchy and my head aches, but it's no worse than that time I took Grace to the water park and found out my sunblock wasn't as waterproof as it claimed. I had a headache and sunburn then, and you thought it was funny to keep patting me on the back all day."

Steve looked a little sheepish. It had been funny then to hear Danny yelp and curse, but this time Steve couldn't shake the image of Danny flying through the air in a ball of fire.

"Steve, I'm OK," Danny said quietly.

"You don't look OK. You look tired," Steve said.

Danny rolled his eyes. "Steven! I just came out of the hospital. You know what they're like! They tell you to get some rest, then wake you up every couple of hours to shine that cursed penlight in your eyes and then, just as you start to get back to sleep, they wake you up again to ask you to cough. And why they can't do the concussion check and the pneumonia check at the same time, I don't know. So I am tired. I'll take a nap in the truck. An hour or two and I'll be fine."

"It's only 25-30 minutes to Kailua," Steve said.

"You haven't listened to the traffic report," Danny replied, as he threw his vest and a small duffle bag into the Silverado's backseat.

Steve groaned. "Wait, don't tell me. Rain related road repairs."

"You're psychic," Danny said with admiration. "Also alliterative."

"He's right, boss," Kono contributed. "The radio said the Pali is a mess."

While Danny prepared to nap, Steve, Kono, Chin and Aku checked with HPD and debated their options. While they talked, Steve saw Danny pull one of the blankets out of the back of the pickup. The detective studied the amazing amount of neatly stowed equipment, then peered into the backseat of the extended cab truck.

"You lose something?" Steve asked.

"No, just wondering where you put the kitchen sink," Danny replied.

The others hid their smiles. Steve made a face and went back to the discussion while Danny climbed into the front passenger seat.

With the road delays, Steve considered getting a helicopter, but the weather report was discouraging. A severe storm was brewing off the Windward coast, with a waterspout warning in effect. Steve wouldn't have hesitated to try it himself, but not when he was responsible for nine other lives.

"OK, Likelike Highway it is. If we get separated, meet at Kailua Police Station. We can gear up there," Steve said, looking at the map.

Danny looked comfortable buckled in and leaning against the door with a blanket folded as a pillow. Steve climbed into his Silverado as quietly as possible, but it's hard to close a car door quietly. Danny blinked awake. "Bad as the hospital," he complained.

"Go back to sleep," Steve said. "We're taking the 63."

Danny carefully adjusted his position, trying not to rub his back against anything for fear it would start a cycle of itching he couldn't control. Gabby had come up trumps, finding everything he'd asked for: his hiking boots and jeans that would tolerate the rain and mud better than dress clothes, and his extra jacket, a little too heavy for muggy Hawaii but at least it was clean. She'd even rummaged through the box of winter wear he'd never opened to find the silk undershirt he hoped would protect his back. So far it seemed to be working. None of his aches and pains bothered him enough to prevent him from going back to sleep.

* * *

Traffic was heavy heading out of town. Steve and his Silverado led the way with Chin driving the BMW behind him and the SWAT van bringing up the rear.

Steve braked suddenly, waking Danny again.

"Are we there yet?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Not yet," Steve answered, nodding at the accident that had forced him to slow because it was blocking two lanes.

While the Five-0 convoy inched along in the two-lane merge mess, one of Aku's men swung down from the rear door of the van. He walked over to the motorists to make sure everyone was all right. His casual pace was faster than the traffic.

He spoke to the two women, nodded and called to his SWAT comrades. Three more guys piled out of the van and helped push the disabled vehicles out of the traffic lanes. Steve and Chin cleared the accident, then pulled over to wait for Aku's van.

The officers jogged back to the van and Aku reported by cellphone to Steve, "No one's hurt and tow trucks are on the way, in fact, I see them coming now. I don't think we need to stay."

In his rearview mirror, Steve could see two tow trucks coming up the shoulder, yellow warning lights flashing on their roofs. Aku jumped down and went to talk to the men, checked their credentials and then went back to the van.

"OK, we're good," he reported.

Steve took off. The other vehicles followed.

Danny looked out at the mountains beyond Steve. They were furrowed in accordion folds with white stripes running down the creases.

"I don't remember seeing those white streaks before," Danny commented.

Steve glanced over. "Those are waterfalls," he said. "The mountains are trying to shed all this rain."

"Waterfalls?" Danny looked at streak after streak after streak, one for each fold in the pleated mountains. "That's a lot of water."

"That's what formed all the canyons in the first place," Steve said.

"Huh. 'Leaky-leaky' Highway is a good name for it," Danny commented. He watched the mountains for a while, then went back to sleep.

The farther they went, the heavier the rain got and the lighter the traffic became. Steve looked at the inky clouds ahead and wondered uneasily if the other drivers knew something he didn't.

The darkness was nice for the man trying to nap. He got in another fifteen minutes, while the Five-0 convoy cleared the mountains and approached the coast, and then Danny received a really rude awakening.

"Whump!" The roof of the Silverado boomed as if hit by a baseball bat.

Danny jumped, banged his head on the window, then banged it again when Steve swerved. Steve's eyes were as wild as Danny's.

"What?" Danny demanded.

"I don't know!"

"Clongggg!" the shell over the pickup bed rang like a bell.

Steve swerved around what looked like a small explosion in front of the truck. Another burst farther down the nearly empty road. Then "wham!" a ball the size of a plum crashed on the hood in front of Danny's eyes. A spray of particles scattered and Danny realized it was ice.

"Hell, hail! Steve, it's hail!" the Jerseyan yelled. He pointed ahead. "The overpass. Stop under the overpass!"

Steve braked in the safety of a concrete roof. Chin tucked the BMW next to the pickup. The SWAT van parked behind them in the open, its armored hide shrugging off the icy bombardment.

The Five-0 foursome got out and stood by their vehicles, watching the hail. Aku opened the van's back door and crouched there, watching in fascination. The balls of ice rained down sporadically at first, then faster, harder and bigger. The thunderous noise sounded like a hundred drum corps hammering away.

Danny's eyes grew wide as globes the size of baseballs shattered on the road, sending sprays of ice crystals skyward. Steve forgave himself for thinking they were explosions. They were explosions!

"I don't believe this!" Kono said in awe.

"We get hail in the mountains, but not at sea level," Steve said.

"I've seen hail, babe, but I've never seen hail this big!" the Jersey native said. He scooped up a handful of ice, packed like a snowball then dropped it and watched it splat.

"This has been the strangest week for weather I've ever seen," Chin commented.

The pounding began to die down as the storm cell moved away. Steve turned his attention to his dented truck. He looked mournfully at the two deep dents in the borrowed shell.

"I'm going to owe Brody for repairs," he sighed.

Danny and Chin shared a look that said, "Gee, I'm glad I didn't drive my car," then Danny patted his partner on the back. "Your insurance will probably pay for most of it."

"Really?"

"You'll have to check your policy, but mine paid when it happened to me in Jersey. My car was dimpled like a golf ball," Danny remembered.

In a few more minutes, the hail had turned to rain, which was beginning to wash away the ice on the ground. Chin laughed. "You were right about your packing, Steve. You forgot the snow shovel."

Steve swiped at him with a playful growl. Chin dodged and returned to the BMW with Kono. Behind the wheel of his pickup, Steve took a deep breath and drove back out into the weather again. The heavy rain pounded on the truck, but didn't cause dents.

* * *

The rain eased but didn't stop as the Five-0 convoy pulled into the Kailua Police Station, which was really just a substation of the HPD. (The HPD has jurisdiction over the entire island of Oahu.) The assault team had expected to pick up a couple more officers in Kailua, but emergencies caused by the freak hailstorm meant none of the local cops were available to help. The harried desk sergeant pointed out their destination on a map. That was the best he could do.

"We can't wait for more help," Steve decided as the team geared up. "Moon said the men have some leeway, especially with the rain, but Moriarty is bound to get suspicious soon."

* * *

A few minutes later, a hail-dented BMW with dark tinted windows drove up to the gate of Moriarty's ranch. The guard came out into the rain saying cheerfully, "Brah! The boss is going to be mad at you for messing up his ride!"

The electronic driver's side window rolled down and the guard found himself face-to-face with the cyclopean eye of Chin Ho Kelly's shotgun.

"I think that's going to be the least of his problems," Chin told the guard, who raised his hands.

* * *

_A/N: Real headline from the front page of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser, March 10, 2012: "What the hail: A Windward Oahu storm dropped what is believed to be record large hailstones Friday."_

_I know, this chapter is all setup, but next time, action!_


	20. Action Heroes

_New photo is Kualoa Ranch which is on the Windward side like the ranch in my story._

**Chapter 20 — Action Heroes**

Kono got out, zip-cuffed the guard's hands behind his back and his feet together, and gagged him so he couldn't shout a warning. She secured his phone and then used her com to call Steve and Aku forward.

With the threat of his shotgun no longer needed, Chin pulled the BMW into the parking area inside the gate. The SWAT van drove past him and Steve stopped next to the BMW. He and Danny got out. The injured detective was stiff after the long ride and it was an effort to climb down from the high riding pickup truck. Of course, Steve noticed.

"Danny, watch the gate," Steve ordered, schooling his face to matter-of-fact impassivity that didn't fool his partner one moment. He knew when he was being mollycoddled.

"I only need a minute," Danny muttered crossly.

Steve was sympathetic but unyielding. "I need someone on the gate I can trust. We don't want anyone coming in behind us."

Danny was unwilling to accept the face-saver. Who knew what trouble Steve would launch himself into without his partner to watch his back.

Kono and Chin exchanged a glance, knowing Danny wasn't worried about personal glory. He was worried about Steve. The cousins separated. Kono moved to Aku and steady Chin to Steve.

"I've got him, brah."

Steve grimaced. Danny gave a tight smile. The cousins knew them both too well. "All right," Danny accepted. He pulled a short-barreled assault rifle and a couple of spare clips out of Steve's arsenal, because the gatekeeper needs something more than a 9 mil.

Danny checked the rifle — which was perfect, of course, because it was McGarrett's. The detective presented himself at port arms, the stepped backwards into the guardhouse out of sight. After a moment, he stuck his head back out.

"Well? Are you going to leave him in the middle of the road like a signpost?" he demanded, gesturing at the hogtied guard. "If I'm too hurt to join the attack, I'm too hurt to drag a moose around." He went back in the gatehouse.

Aku started for the guard, but Steve knelt beside the man. "My name is McGarrett," he said, making the guard's eyes widen. "I have a couple of questions. Is Moriarty inside?" he growled.

The guard mumbled something that probably indicated he'd like his gag removed.

"Forget it," Steve said. "You can nod or grunt. Is … Moriarty … inside? Don't make me ask you again."

The guard nodded vigorously.

"How many men does he have with him?" Aku asked, then clarified, "How many in the main house?"

The guard shrugged. He couldn't keep track of the comings and goings between the buildings. "Free, foah, may-ee fi?"

"Maybe five?" Aku asked, getting a nod in return.

"How about the bunkhouse?" Steve demanded.

"Se-en, ei."

"So Moriarty has a dozen men total, but they come and go between the houses," Chin translated.

"Ess! Ess!" the guard said, nodding vigorously.

"That's more people than Moon told us," Steve said suspiciously.

"Ooo guys."

"New guys?"

"Ess."

Seeing Steve was finished, Chin grabbed the guard by the collar and dragged him into the comfy guardhouse shack where Danny had been listening to every word. "Thanks for your help," Chin told the guard. "As a reward, you get to sit out the firefight. Lie down and lie still."

The guard curled up on his side facing the far corner and put his cuffed hands over his head, covering his ears.

That was a bad sign, Danny thought. "That's 13 bad guys and nine good guys, because I don't count," he said bitterly.

Chin gently slugged his arm. "But we got a McGarrett, so they're outnumbered. We got this."

Danny's eyes were still troubled as he watched his friend leave.

In that short time, Steve had made his battle plan. "Kono, you and Martin watch the main house front and back. Keep everyone bottled up inside." Kono and the SWAT officer nodded.

"The rest of us will clear the bunkhouse, then when all those men are secured, we'll all hit the main house," Steve continued. "We took these guys too lightly in Waikiki and we ended up with four wounded and three dead. Fortunately all the dead were theirs, but we might not be so lucky this time. They were only wanted for identity theft, computer fraud and other financial crimes, but the men Moriarty has gathered around him are experienced leg-breakers who don't have a problem reaching for their guns. And they're frighteningly well-armed. At the least, we can add conspiracy to commit murder to Moriarty's resume. At the most … well, we don't know how many others Moriarty may have injured in order to get his way. If these men surrender, fine. If not, don't hesitate to defend yourselves."

Steve gave one last complicated look of regret at the guardhouse, and met Danny's eyes looking back.

"Watch your back, sailor boy," the detective said, bringing up his weapon at the ready.

Steve smiled, much relieved. "I knew you knew it was Navy," he answered, then led his team into position.

Inside the gate was a small, gravel parking area and a wide green lawn in front of the main house. A creek ran between the bunkhouse and the main house, closer to the bunkhouse. The channel curved around the bunkhouse and ran off parallel to the wall around the property. A footbridge crossed the creek, connecting two sides of a gravel path between the bunkhouse and main house. Another gravel path ran from the parking lot between the two buildings disappearing in a wooded area beyond.

Kono took note of the suspect vehicles, two parked outside the gate and two parked inside. She shook rain out of her long bangs and reported, "Boss, these cars are the ones with the missing license numbers. I had six numbers. Including our Beemer here and the Merc wrecked in Waikiki, that's all of them. So maybe that means everyone's here," she said hopefully.

"But we can't count on it," Chin pointed out. "Maybe someone has their own car."

"Especially considering there are new recruits," Steve pointed out.

Martin and Kono moved to bracket the main house. Ducking low, Martin ran to the far side. When he and Kono were in position, they could see all the doors and windows.

Steve, Chin and Aku's team moved to surround the bunkhouse. They had tear gas and flash-bang grenades ready to disorient the Goon Squad. They hoped their surprise attack would take down the gunmen quickly.

But it was all spoiled by one goon on a beer run.

The big young man came out, heading for the main house, and saw the ominous officers approaching, clad in their threatening dark bulletproof vests.

"Cops!" he yelled hoarsely, yanking a gun out of his jacket pocket.

He fired wildly. Aku fired back deliberately, punching a hole in the goon's shoulder. The beer runner went down, but now windows were being smashed from the inside and guns were pointing out.

"Take cover!" Steve yelled unnecessarily. Officers ducked back behind the cars, about the only cover available. "Police! You in the bunkhouse, come out with your hands up!" Steve yelled.

Aku ran for the SWAT van and, keeping his head so low he could hardly see out, drove it out beyond the suspects' cars to provide a better vantage point for the officers.

Chin and Officer Norman Wa abandoned their first positions, jogging beside the slowly moving SWAT vehicle.

Behind him Chin heard gunshots. He glanced around, but Kono and Officer Gabe Martin had the people in the main house pinned down.

Aku stopped the armored van and slid across to climb out the passenger door. Chin moved to the nose of the van and Wa to the rear bumper. They fired tear gas grenades into the bunkhouse.

Men burst from the bunkhouse. Two came firing and were shot down. One clever group ran out hands high, obviously empty, trusting that the cops would hesitate to gun down unarmed men even though they didn't stop as ordered.

They leaped the narrow creek and attacked with bare hands. They were all big, rough-and-tumble fighters, believing they could swarm the cops. One dodged right, aiming for Kono. The slender woman looked like an easy target and taking her out could free the men in the main house.

Kono spun away from the big man with contemptuous ease, planting her elbow in his ear as he passed. He staggered in a circle, roared and tried to head butt her. Kono skipped back one step, caught the man's hair and pushed his head down, into her rising knee. His chin connected with an audible crunch, like stepping on spilled pasta. The man folded at Kono's feet. She rubbed her knee.

"His dentist won't be happy," she muttered, returning her attention to the main house. She fired a quick shot at a door that cracked open. It slammed shut.

Three goons ganged up on Steve and Chin. The Five-0 guys each caught one by the shirt and, as if they'd rehearsed it, slammed the men together. Their skulls impacted on the center man's head. He dropped, but the other two were tougher. The redhead threw a punch that clipped Steve's jaw. The commander gave a tight smile that made his opponent flinch. Left, right, left — Steve punched the goon in the gut as if he was working out on the heavy bag, then finished with an uppercut to the jaw. The man's eyes rolled up in his head, but he swayed on his feet without falling. Steve spun him around to fasten zip cuffs on his wrists, then kindly lowered the semiconscious man to the ground.

Chin was getting a good workout with his man. The burly Asian goon had some martial arts skills. He and Chin traded blows and blocks, neither gaining the upper hand. Steve was about to intervene, when someone else did.

Now that the police had been forced out of position, two goons who had been cleaning weapons on the rear lanai burst from behind the bunkhouse. Each had a semiautomatic in his hands and another slung over his back. Weapons firing, they vaulted the creek, charging toward the gate.

Heedless of their wounded and captured comrades, they poured bullets indiscriminately into the field of battle.

Aku was saved by the beer runner who had surrendered. The lieutenant was handcuffing his prisoner when the firing started. The prisoner grunted and toppled sideways. Aku dropped with him and two more bullets made the goon's body jerk before the salvo passed on. Crawling as low as he could, Aku towed the goon into cover, but found the young man was dead

Steve saw the spray of fire kicking up gravel in his direction. He dove, carrying the oblivious Chin and his opponent into the shelter of the SWAT van. Chin bounded up to defend himself, recognized Steve and turned his move into a sweeping kick that knocked his adversary on his face. When Chin pounced on the goon's back, Steve was already on his feet, chasing the fleeing gunmen.

Pissed though he was, Danny had maintained his position at the gate through all the excitement. Now he fired at the two men coming his way. They were at the extreme range of his short-barreled weapon, but he hoped to turn them back or persuade them to surrender. His semiautomatic churned up the ground in front of them, then caught the lead man in the foot. He fell, screaming, but the other man threw his nearly empty rifle away. He brought up his second and it had a longer range than Danny's.

Danny ducked into the small building just as a vicious burst chewed the gatehouse to pieces.

"Danny!" Steve doubled his speed. SWAT Sgt. Heneli Kaulia kicked the weapons away from the fallen man who was clutching his ruined foot and then Kaulia raced to back up Steve.

The gunman turned and fired wildly as he ran, spraying bullets in every direction. Steve dived aside as spurts of gravel were kicked up by the gunfire. Kaulia went down.

The goon continued running toward the shattered gatehouse, aiming for one of the cars parked outside.

There had been no sign of Danny since the fusillade tore the small building apart, but Steve couldn't fire at the suspect because a stray shot might hit the gatehouse. Steve thrust himself to his feet and charged after the goon again.

Kaulia rolled slowly to his feet, breathless but grateful for his vest.

The goon was almost out the gate, when Danny suddenly stood before him. Holding his rifle at port arms, he thrust up and out with his right hand, slamming the rifle butt into the fugitive's face. The goon fell flat on his back, out cold, his nose a bloody mess.

"Danny!" Steve panted in relief. "I was afraid …" He waved at the bullet-riddled shack.

"I ducked," Danny answered. "I'd have shot him, but you and Henny were in the way."

"Yeah, I had the same problem. Thanks."

"Hey, if I have to be the gate guard, nobody gets past." Then Danny stood straight, tapped the butt of his rifle on the pavement, swept it up into present arms, then across his body diagonally into port arms. He added a spinning flourish that ended with the rifle on his shoulder, then finished a crisp salute. The flabbergasted look on Steve's face completely erased Danny's bad humor.

"Where did you learn the manual of arms?"

"That's classified," Danny answered, because he would never, ever confess he learned about military rifle maneuvers by helping his younger sisters with high school drill team routines.

Rain had continued sporadically all this time. Now the wind picked up, but seemed confused, blowing hard north, then switching south without seeming to die down at all.

Aku reported the bunkhouse was clear. Nine suspects accounted for, three of them dead.

"And we need a fire extinguisher. The gas canisters set the carpet on fire in the bunkhouse," Aku added. They couldn't do anything about that until all the potential shooters were secured.

"What about your men?" Steve asked. "I saw Kaulia go down."

"He took a couple slugs to the vest. Probably has a couple of broken ribs," Aku answered.

"But I can keep going," the sergeant said, coming up, panting and wincing.

"You can be gate guard," Danny said firmly. The Five-0 second-in-command had worked out his stiffness. Now he was moving better than Kaulia.

Steve and Aku agreed with Danny. Kaulia grimaced.

"Don't worry, babe. It's more exciting than you'd think," Danny consoled his replacement, patting the bullet-shattered wood.

Steve got the fire extinguisher out of his truck. Leaving the sergeant with the original gate guard who was still huddled in his prescient protective position, Danny, Steve and Aku joined the rest of the assault team by the SWAT van.

They could see the growing blaze in the bunkhouse through the windows and open door.

"I am not going in there. I have already done my turn with fire this week," Danny declared.

"That might be a little too much for a couple of fire extinguishers," Steve agreed. "We'll leave it to the professionals. It's not going to spread. Everything's too wet."

Chin wasn't so sure. "What about the wind?"

A strong gust hit them in the face just then. It came from the ocean and blew the smoke away from them, but also pummeled them with ice crystals too small to be called hail. The wind built with a whining roar like an aircraft engine. The ice crystals grew into pea-sized balls that definitely were hail.

Danny raised his hand to protect his face. "OK, I like weather," Danny yelled over the wind. "But now it's getting carried away!"

Steve was staring over Danny's shoulder with a wide-eyed fear Danny never expected to see on the Navy SEAL's face. "Speaking of getting carried away," Steve said in voice almost too faint to be heard.

Danny looked and saw a funnel cloud spinning down out of the slowly rotating clouds. It touched the ocean and then the waterspout began to move steadily in their direction.

"A tornado? What, are we in Kansas now!" the Jersey detective said incredulously. "I didn't know you got tornados in Hawaii!"

"Neither did I!" Steve yelled back.

**TBC**

* * *

_A/N: So I suppose you're thinking I've gone too far here. I mean, a tornado in Hawaii? But I told you at the beginning that the weather in this story is real. This is the main headline and first paragraph of the Honolulu Star-Advertiser's front page for Saturday, March 10, 2012, the day I came home from Oahu: "Hail. Floods. Tornado. Big Mess! A tornado swept through parts of Kailua and Lanikai on Friday, capping a week of wild, rare weather that included record-size hail, damaging lightning strikes and torrential rain that closed roads and flooded homes." My vacation!_

_One more chapter to go._


	21. The Return of the Brilliant Detective

_Last chapter. Thanks to all the guests and everyone I couldn't get back to in a PM. Permanent photo for Stormy Weather will be the rainbow over the Honolulu Hale, which was featured in chapter 2. Thanks for reading and reviewing. Season 3 is just around the corner! - Qweb_

**Chapter 21 — Return of the Brilliant Detective**

The roar of the wind was as loud as a freight train and growing louder as the tornado swept toward them.

"What do we do?" Kono asked. They were out in the open with nowhere to take cover but a house that was on fire or a house that was full of goons with guns.

"Get down in the ditch!" Steve yelled. "Stay flat!"

Dragging their prisoners with them, the Five-0 team and their SWAT allies threw themselves down in the creek, which, of course, was half full of muddy water because of all the RAIN! Hail the size of macadamia nuts pelted down on their backs. Danny was glad of his bulletproof vest and envied the SWAT team their helmets. He covered his head and neck with his hands and prayed that the tornado wouldn't pick up Steve's rolling armory and drop it on their heads.

The tornado roared past, flinging a picnic table over their heads without touching the fence beside it. The picnic table crashed through the roof of the burning bunkhouse, letting in the hail to cool the fire.

The 20-foot-wide path of destruction missed the officers but ripped the roof off the suspect's lanai and threw it into the side of the main house, smashing all the windows on that side and tearing a gash in the roof.

As the noise died down, Chin heard Danny swearing steadily to himself.

"You all right?" Chin asked, remembering his friend's injuries.

"Peachy," Danny replied. "This is the third set of clothes I've ruined this week! And I think I just crushed Gabby's cell phone."

As the cops rose cautiously from the ditch, Danny had to grin at Steve who had face-planted in a juicy patch of mud. The hail had turned back to rain, which was rinsing off the mud in streaks like warpaint. To Danny it looked funny. To strangers he thought it would probably look fierce, particularly considering the furious expression on Steve's face. Danny wondered if it would enhance McGarrett's fearsome reputation.

And then the brilliant detective had a wonderfully fiendish idea.

Through the broken windows, the officers could hear the mastermind and his henchmen sorting themselves out. They seemed to have no idea what had hit them.

With hand gestures and quiet orders over the com, Steve quickly sent the assault team into position. Chin was poised with the gas grenade launcher. SWAT officers beside the broken windows had flash-bangs at the ready. Aku hefted the battering ram for the front door.

"Let me call them out, Steve," Danny said.

Steve hesitated. He hated to give the suspects warning, but everyone was in place. The attack would succeed one way or another. He nodded.

Danny took Aku's bullhorn. "You in the house. This is Five-0. Throw out your weapons and come out with your hands on your heads — or do you want another taste of Commander McGarrett's Vortex Cannon?"

Vortex Cannon? Steve mouthed with a look on his face that Danny wished he could photograph. It was a mix of Constipation Face and My Partner Belongs in a Straightjacket Face.

Kono stifled a giggle and Chin Ho didn't try to hide his grin.

"Hey, babe, if you've got a reputation, you might as well flaunt it," Danny told his partner. Then into the bullhorn, he said, "You've got two minutes!"

Through the glassless windows, the waiting officers heard a flurry of worried whispers. "He said Five-0." "That's McGarrett out there, everyone knows he's crazy."

"There's no such thing as a Vortex Cannon!" the leader yelled in exasperation, but his more superstitious henchmen weren't so sure.

"McGarrett's a Navy SEAL. They've got all kinds of secret weapons."

"We're not surrendering!" the leader said, sounding more and more like a petulant teenager. "We're not …" His tirade cut off with a grunt.

"Hey! Five-0!" shouted a gravelly voice from inside. "Don't shoot. We're coming out!"

"I can't believe that worked!" Steve muttered, as he took the bullhorn from his preening partner. "Throw out your weapons," Steve ordered.

The front door opened cautiously and a hailstorm of handguns flew out.

"Now come out, hands on your heads."

One man obeyed, slinking out with both hands on the top of his skull. Two men half-obeyed, putting one hand each on their heads while using the others to drag their unconscious leader outside.

He was a petulant teenager, Danny thought. Or maybe a petulant college student.

"This is a little bit of a letdown," Kono commented, resting the butt of her rifle on her hip, as she looked down at the fearsome Moriarty.

Not yet 30, the young man lying in the wet grass was no taller than Danny and as skinny as a yardstick. He had the high, slightly bulging forehead that represented genius in Saturday morning cartoons, but otherwise was entirely unimpressive.

* * *

The officers rounded up the surviving goons and confined them and the recovering Moriarty under guard in an undamaged section of the main house. Five-0 had a few chores to take care of before questioning Moriarty. There was a fire to douse, wounds to tend to, bodies to cover and evidence to protect — and, of course, suspects to intimidate.

Steve had taken Danny's comment about his reputation to heart, so he let Moriarty sweat. Every few minutes, he would pace past, scowling in the door at the prisoners. Each time he passed, he had a different weapon in hand, some from his Silverado's arsenal and some from the SWAT van — a pistol, a shotgun, an assault rifle, a grenade launcher — each weapon bigger than the last.

"No flame thrower?" Danny asked from where he lounged out of sight around the corner.

"Knew I forgot something," Steve said, snapping his fingers with a mock rueful grin.

The goons grew more wide-eyed each time Steve passed and young Moriarty looked more and more uncertain. He edged closer to the big man who had attacked Kono. The Samoan was nursing a broken jaw and looked just as frightened as his boss.

It was almost a relief when Steve came in barehanded and loomed over the men. Danny followed, pulling up a chair and crossing his legs comfortably.

"Ruben Moore, aka Moriarty," Steve sneered.

The young man started, alarmed to be so easily identified. Steve had used his crime scene kit to fingerprint Moriarty while he was unconscious.

Connecting to the Five-0 mainframe, the scanner had found a match for the prints from a college misdemeanor.

Danny rattled off the Miranda rights, then pulled out his notebook.

"You are under arrest for so many crimes I can't remember them all," Danny said. He read a list that started with computer fraud and ended with attempted murder and murder.

"What?" Moore squawked. "Murder? I never murdered anyone!"

"You sent your men to kill the pickpockets," Steve said sternly. "Your men were killed in commission of a felony. That makes it murder."

"But you killed them," Moore protested weakly.

"Doesn't matter," Steve answered. (Though actually, he'd been the only one to bring his man in alive.) "The deaths are on you. Ricky Moon talked. He said you ordered the hit."

Moore looked genuinely indignant. "I did not! I wanted them punished, not killed!"

His friend with broken jaw nudged him sharply. Moore snapped his mouth shut.

"I'm not saying anything more until I get a lawyer."

Steve laughed, and it wasn't a nice laugh. "Five-0 has full means and immunity to get the job done," Steve said. "The governor really hates the impact this identity theft ring could have on the economy, plus he's already pissed off because of all the trouble caused by the rain. He won't have any problem if I get a little, ah, creative with my interrogation."

"Creative?" Moore said weakly.

On cue (literally), Kono came in carrying a coil of rope and Chin set down a scuba tank with a metallic thunk. "These what you were looking for, boss?" Kono asked.

"Just what I wanted," Steve confirmed. He shrugged out of his dark T-shirt and the captives saw he was wearing a wetsuit beneath.

"So, what's the plan?" Danny asked, as if he didn't know.

"Well, Falzon said something about dragging people behind a car, but I think the ground's too soft and wet for that to be much fun. And you guys made fun of me for bringing all this stuff, so I wanted to get some use out of it," Steve said.

"I've got to admit, the fire extinguisher came in handy, though the rain and hail had put out most of the fire. And the camera in the crime scene kit was good for taking photos of the bodies before we covered them with your tarps," Danny said, intentionally reminding the prisoners of their deceased comrades.

"And don't forget the grenades and the guns," Kono added helpfully, as she began to tie the rope around Moore, pinning his arms to his sides. "They were very useful."

"Goes without saying," Danny agreed.

"But as long as you brought the diving gear, you might as well use it," Chin said.

Steve leered evilly at Moore. "So, Moriarty, as God said to Noah, 'How long can you tread water?'"

* * *

**Saturday**

"And after that, he pretty much told us everything," Danny told their guests. "We didn't have to do anything. He didn't even get wet until we took him out in the rain."

"So he really is a genius, just like the stereotype?" Dr. Malia Waincroft-Kelly asked her husband.

"Apparently so," Chin agreed.

Chin and Danny and their ladies sat with Kono, Max Bergman and Charlie Fong, who had claimed his promised beer. They were all waiting for Steve on the patio of the Tropics Bar and Grill at the Hilton Hawaiian Village.

The tornado had apparently marked the beginning of the end for the week of extreme weather. The Waikiki skies were clear, turning golden as the sun went down. The tourists were laughing and frolicking on the beach with no ponchos in sight.

The crime lab tech had reminded Danny that he had been promised the story of the handprints on the poncho. This led the Five-0 officers to tell the whole story of the latest case, which they could discuss since it was no longer "active."

Chin told his wife that "Moriarty" really turned out to be two people, the math genius — Ruben Moore — and Malosi Taleni — the big Samoan whose jaw Kono had broken during the raid.

Subdued by capture when they had thought they were invincible, the two confessed everything. Well, Moore confessed. Malosi just nodded because his jaw had to be wired shut.

"They confessed everything?" Gabby asked, from her comfortable position with Danny's arm wrapped around her.

"Everything except sending those men to kill the pickpockets," Danny answered. "Moore said he only told them to 'teach them a lesson.'"

"He might even be telling the truth," Chin said. "Moon said the order was relayed by Pierson who did have the most vicious record of anyone in Moriarty's group. He was the sort who'd enjoy killing."

"How did Moore and Taleni get together in the first place?" Max asked. "They seem an unlikely pair, based on your description."

Kono explained that they'd grown up together in a poor neighborhood. The big Samoan kid had protected his smaller, brainer friend all through school. Ruben helped Malosi with his homework. Malosi stole Ruben his first computer and Ruben used it to find Malosi answers to upcoming tests.

"He helped Malosi graduate from high school, which was his dying mother's dearest wish," Kono said. "They are BFFs from childhood."

"They came up with the Moriarty idea together," Chin said. "Moore just needed a couple of numbers to start with and he could get into anyone's entire credit history. I guess he came up with something new in hacking. The financial guys are all excited about it."

"Taleni had had his pocket picked once, so that idea came to him. He recruited the leg-breakers and kept them in line with his muscle, while Moore provided all the toys to keep them amused," Danny said.

"The carrot and the stick," Gabby said.

"Our raid might have gone differently if Taleni hadn't taken a couple of his best men over to the bunk house for a poker game. He might have been able to control the men in the main house and mount a real defense," Kono said. "He's the one who came up with the idea of rushing us barehanded."

"You said they spent their money on toys?" Charlie asked.

"Guns and ATVs, videogames and surfboards," Danny confirmed. "They used all their mental and physical muscle to buy everything they'd never had as kids."

"It's really kind of sad," Gabby said, snuggling closer to Danny, glad his back didn't seem to be bothering him. "With a little support growing up, they could have been productive members of society."

"Moore could have gotten rich legitimately," Malia said.

"Yeah, well…" Steve said, as he came up to the table, carrying a bottle of Longboard. He looked grumpy when he dropped into the chair they'd kept waiting for them.

"What?" Danny demanded. "Why are you wearing Constipated Face? The case is over. The sun is shining. Isn't the governor happy?"

"No." Steve scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "He's happy with us. But now the Feds are expressing interest in Moore's hacking skills. FBI, IRS, CIA, I'm not sure who. There's some talk that Moore will be offered immunity to hack for the government and Taleni, too, because Moore insists."

"Immunity and means come back to bite us," Chin said soberly.

A smile suddenly bloomed on Danny's face.

"What?" Steve demanded.

"I was just imagining Moore working his computer magic on the bank account of the next Bin Laden."

The others smiled and even Steve brightened slightly. "Denning was so pissed, he said if Moriarty gets immunity, he'll make sure the Dipping Crew gets immunity."

"Well, that's something," Kono said, pleased that she wouldn't be deprived of peanut butter pockets.

"What about the rest of Moriarty's men?" Max asked. "Will they go free also?"

"No, they're ours," Steve said with a tight smile. "No question about that."

Chin elaborated, "The ones who aren't in the hospital or the morgue are already back in prison for parole violations. Once we sort out the attempted murder, assault, extortion, resisting arrest and weapons charges, Oahu's streets will be a lot safer for a long time."

"That's good," Gabby said.

"Are we eating soon?" Malia asked. "Because I'm starving.

Kono bounced up instantly, as if she'd just been waiting for someone to suggest it. Danny was right behind her, helping Gabby to her feet.

"We're not eating here?" she asked.

"No, but it's not far," Danny promised, rubbing his hands in anticipation.

Steve chugged down the last of his beer and the Five-0 group left the bar and grill. They walked along the sidewalk beside the beach toward a small crowd gathered by a couple of food trucks. The women recognized Kamekona's shrimp truck, but the other truck was new.

"That's not … but I thought it was wrecked," Gabby said.

"Kamekona knew a guy willing to loan them a truck until their insurance pays off," Chin said.

Max and Charlie headed off to study the menu boards, while the others went to the temporary home of Pick a Pocket.

"May I take your order?" Simon said cheerfully, as the group approached the bench where he sat beside the truck. "We've got a new two-truck combo special, Baja shrimp pockets."

His right hand was bandaged and two fingers were splinted, with the whole thing bound in a sling to keep it elevated. But Simon was happy because everything still worked and his wife was standing at his side. Darlene had bandages on the left side of her neck and her left forearm, with red patches elsewhere, but she was happily writing down the orders that Simon took.

She handed the ticket through the window to Kimo, their volunteer helper. Darren was at his usual place at the grill, while Kimo assembled the pockets and sides.

Simon got carefully to his feet. "Detective, I just wanted to thank you again for saving Darlene. You almost got killed and, well, I can't thank you enough."

Danny gripped the left hand that Simon held out. "I told you before what I need."

"No free pocket sandwiches, Danny," Steve said sternly.

"Me?" Danny contrived to look innocent. "I plan to pay for everything."

Steve turned back to the service window and bumped into Simon heading back to his seat. "Whoa!" The commander caught the wavering, one-armed man and helped him to his seat.

"Thank you, commander."

Danny walked behind the bench and took the handoff from behind Simon's back.

"Dinner's on Steve," he announced to his friends, brandishing the wallet that Simon had lifted left-handed from Steve's pocket. Steve slapped his pants and looked astonished.

"But your hand's broken!"

"He's ambidextrous," Darlene explained fondly.

Kono chuckled. "It's in the files, boss. Looks like the brilliant detective got you again."

Steve shook his head. "All right, pita pockets all around."

"And dessert?" Kono asked hopefully.

"Peanut butter pockets for everyone!" Steve confirmed magnanimously. As he spoke, he sidled over to Danny. The detective didn't like the expression on his face.

"What?" Danny demanded nervously. He tried to edge away but Steve cornered him next to the truck.

"Nothing, Danny," Steve said falsely. "I just wanted to thank you, pal." He slapped his friend on the back.

"Ow, ow!" Danny yelped and bounded away. "What's with you? Yesterday I was horribly injured and today you're pounding on my first degree burns!"

"I was just saying thank you for making me look so generous. I forgot about your sunburn owie."

"It was only a few sandwiches. Not like I stuck you with a bill for steak and lobster," Danny said in aggravation. Steve's slap had started his back burning. If it started itching, it would drive Danny crazy until he had to make a run for the lotion.

"I'm sorry, does it hurt? Let me scratch it for you," Steve said wickedly, knowing Danny's sunburn weakness.

The detective fled. "Don't you dare? What are you, 12?"

They dodged in and out, around the tables and between the food truck patrons, while their friends laughed at their antics.

"Twelve? I'd say eight at best," Gabby said from her experience with grade school museum tours. She checked her purse to make sure she had the soothing lotion for Danny's burns, just in case.

Kono rolled her eyes. "No, five," she said, thinking of her cousins' children.

"You've had experience with pediatrics, Malia, what do you think?" Chin asked.

Danny pretended to duck behind a giggling pair of toddlers, a couple of Kamekona's nieces. He begged them to hide him. Steve pretended to not be able to see Danny and ordered the little girls to hand him over. Soon they were all laughing too hard to continue. Steve put his arm — carefully — across his partner's shoulders and they started back to their friends.

"I'd say two and a half, tops," Malia said. "They're rambunctious but they're always so cute at that age."

* * *

**Aloha**


End file.
